May I Call You Mother
by Shanyetta
Summary: A mysterious woman from Ian's childhood, Sara sharing his memories...Please R an R. Enjoy!
1. Memories

Title: May I Call You Mother ****

Title: May I Call You Mother?

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Author: Shanyetta

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Email Address: I'd love your feedback: shanyetta@hotmail.com (I don't know how to make this a link sorry)

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Rating: PG-13: for violence, child abuse, and some sensual aspects

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Category: Drama/History; Ian/Irons/Sara (not sexual relationship, just history and a little bit of romance.)

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Summary: A mysterious woman from Ian's childhood, Sara sharing his memories... (This could get quite long, but it will be very good.) :)

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Disclaimer: This story is original, but alas the characters are not mine, they belong to TNT and Warner Bros. The only character that is my own creation is Constance, so if you wish to use her in your stories, please ask my permission first. So please don't sue me. ;)

Chapter 1: Memories

The city was dark and ominous. Huge thunderclouds were closing in all around the city. Nottingham crouched on the edge of a gargoyle-covered building. There was a loud boom of thunder and a flash of lightening across the sky as the first drops of rain came pouring down. Ian did not move. The rain soaked his body and chilled his bones. He came up to the top of this building a lot, partly because the top two floors were abandoned so he would not be found, and it was the furthest building away from Irons. He came here to think, to remember, and to be alone. They only other things on the roof were the gargoyles. They consoled him and listened to him, sometimes he actually thought of them as his friends. His only friends. His only family. He had a family once, at least he once thought of it as a family. These thoughts were what plagued his mind tonight.

He remembered "her" tonight, all the memories that encompassed "her". He missed "her". He strained his memory to find her face, to make the memories come alive again. His face changed from a melancholy grimace to a small smile as he remembered the day he first met her...........

_Ian was playing in the small orphanage room. He was no more than five years old. The wallpaper on the walls had decayed and fallen off the walls in places. The room smelled of mildew. It was hard for Ian to breath as he played with a flat rubber ball, making it into a hat or helmet and pretending that he was a soldier fighting the "bad guys". The orphanage had told him that his father was a brave soldier who fought in the Vietnam War. That war killed him and his mother had died heartbroken. He had not had a mother or father that was known to the orphanage officials. This story was what they would tell him, it always seemed to cheer him up. So, today he was being his "father", fighting for freedom and justice, the "American Way". _

His play was interrupted by one of the old ladies who ran his wing, "Ian, sweetie, come with me, darling. We have someone for you to meet." Ian obeyed without question and dropped his flat rubber ball as he walked out of the horrid room. The old lady took his small hand his hers as she walked him down the dark hall, drops of water dripped down to the floor, making the whole building damp. The old lady turned to Ian as she continued walking, "The past few months there has been a young woman watching you and studying you. She was seeing if you were what she was looking for in a little boy." The old lady still kept moving by the musty bedrooms dragging Ian behind her, "Well, my boy, you are in luck. She has decided to adopt you." Ian's eyes became very wide, he did not know what to say, he was going to be adopted? This was the happiest day of his life!

As they finally reached the "office" at the end of the hall, he saw her. She was young, probably around 20. She had beautiful blonde hair that she had tied up in the back so that it was off her neck. Her skin was pale and lovely; it shone in the dim light of the room. Her tall and thin 5'8" frame was dressed in a black knee high skirt and tight gray sweater. Her appearance was radiant, but it was her eyes that always had stayed imprinted in his memory, they were hazel, green with a little brown, like his own. She was an angel.

The old lady tugged him into the room and introduced him, "This is young Ian Nottingham, Miss Dain. Ian, this is Miss Constance Dain." 

Constance bent down to look at Ian. He dropped his head, shyly. "He is fine, is he not?" her voice was like the sound of wind blowing through the trees on a calm autumn day.

"Very fine indeed." replied the old lady. "This is how he comes, all his earthly possessions are on him now. Take him or leave him." The old lady held out a document to be signed.

"Take him, of course." Constance took Ian's small hand in hers and signed the document. 

She began to walk out with him, but he started resisting, the "outside" was unknown to him and frightening, "Where are you taking me?" His small voice rang. 

She bent down to him again, stroking his curly black hair with her long slender hand; she looked into his eyes and whispered, "Home." 

Another boom of thunder awoke Ian from his world of memories. He looked at his watch and leapt up off the ledge and onto the roof, he was going to be late. Irons had ordered him to go to her apartment before she arrived home. She would be in home in two minutes! He had to hurry.

Sara unlocked her door and fumbled up the dark stair to turn on the light switch. As she turned them on she heard a noise at her window; it was "he". She drew her gun and walked slowly over to her window. 

Nottingham was standing in the pouring rain head bowed. He tapped the window again, _She's enjoying this._ He thought. _She wants me to stand in the rain for awhile. I don't blame her._

Sara opened the window and let him in. "You're drenched."

"Thank you for stating the obvious, Sara" he was surprised at how he had answered her. Sarcasm?

Sara's eyes were wide, "That was a different?" she smiled a little, "I think you are actually developing a sense of humor." She went to her bathroom and grabbed a towel, when she walked back into her living room; he was in her kitchen ringing out his cap over her sink.

"Here," she tossed him the towel, "But don't get too comfortable." He grabbed the towel and wiped off his face, putting on his cap he walked over to Sara. "Why are you here, Nottingham? To give me another pointless riddle?"

He gave her a small smile, "No, something different this time."

For the months that he and Sara had known each other, they had become accustomed to each other's presence, little could irritate either person anymore. Sara raised her eyebrows, "Then what?"

"He wishes for you to meet him for lunch tomorrow. He wants to teach you more about the Witchblade."

She sighed, "I bet that there is no point in me refusing then?"

"No there is not."

"Then when do I need to be there?"

"Anytime tomorrow between 12:00 and 2:00." He began to walk to her window. 

Sara reached out to stop him, "Wait..." her hand wrapped around his shoulder. He stopped; suddenly they were both in a vision. Sara could see into his mind, into his memories. She saw blurry images swirling through her mind of what looked like a young boy, of Irons, of his big house. The images stopped, everything went black except the face of a young woman with hazel eyes, she smiled and Sara came back to reality. 

Sara staggered backward, bumping into her couch. Ian was shaking. "What...who?" Sara managed to mutter. She could see that Ian was upset, it seemed like her seeing those images had peeled off a scab and allowed a wound to bleed again. "I'm sorry, if I had known..."

He turned toward her, his face streaked by tears. He looked up at her letting his eyes fall on hers, then he turned a walked out of her window. She ran towards the window, "Who was that lady?!" she yelled after his departing shadow, but it was too late he was gone.


	2. Dreams and Nightmares

Chapter 2: Dreams and Nightmares

Chapter 2: Dreams and Nightmares

When Ian reached Irons' home to report, he was still visibly shaken from Sara and he sharing his memory. Did the Witchblade have a reason for Sara to learn of his painful past, to learn of Constance? She was such a huge part of his life; there were many good memories with her. Once she was gone his life never the same. Ian walked slowly into Irons' study and bowed his head, as always, waiting for Irons to speak.

Irons was reading through his "book", he sensed that there was something wrong with Ian tonight. "What happened?" he said not even looking up to acknowledge Ian's presence.

"She said that she'll come." 

"No, I was asking about why you are upset?" Ian knew that Irons was not worried about him, he never was, but he did want to make sure that Ian was not concentrating on things that he shouldn't, one of these being Constance. 

"Nothing." Ian lied, knowing that it was too late to change the subject, Irons could read his mind.

"You're thinking about "her" aren't you?" Ian dropped his head lower. "Don't you remember? She hated you, left you and ME! She used you for her own purposes then tossed you like a damaged toy." Irons' tone was cruel, abusive, stinging. "You know the punishment for bringing her back into OUR life. GO!" Irons pointed to the hallway. They walked together down the dark hall and into a dark cold room. No one made Irons as mad as the woman known as Constance. Ian knew that his punishment was going to be severe.

Ever since Ian had left she had been thinking about that woman's face. She was a very beautiful woman and very young. Had she been Ian's lover? She thought this unlikely, yet it was the only idea that had popped into her mind. Why had he been so shaken? Sara had become very tired from the whole ordeal; the vision had taken a lot out of her. She conceded to go to bed and examine the vision more in the morning. As soon as Sara was asleep, the Witchblade went to work.

Ian stood very still in the center of an all-concrete room. Irons closed the door and locked it. "Take off your coat and shirt." His voice was icy. Ian slowly took off the clothes requested. He always felt more vulnerable without his clothes; Irons made sure of this. There were two iron shackles hanging from the ceiling, Irons clasped one on each of Ian's wrists. Ian knew what was coming; he would be given lashes for his disobedience. Ian had learned to make himself completely numb while Irons beat him. The pain came later, and this time Irons was very mad.

Two hours and 39 lashes later, Ian was walking slowly into his apartment. He felt each cut tear as his shirt rubbed against them. He gingerly removed his clothes and fell face down on his couch, which acted as his bed. Images of Constance and his childhood swirled through his mind again and he slipped into sleep. 

_His dream began as it always had; he had just arrived at his new "home" as Constance had told him. A tall platinum blonde man had greeted her he had kissed her. "Isn't he beautiful, Ken?" Her words seemed to roll off her tongue like honey on a spoon. The man identified as Ken walked over to Ian and forcefully lifted his chin to look into his face. Ian neck twinged with pain. Why was this man hurting him? Constance grabbed Ken from behind; something was on her hand, some metal glove. A blade grew out of it and she pressed the blade to Ken's throat. "We agreed that you would not hurt him to win him over. Why can't you just show him love, get him to love you!" Her voice sounded desperate._

"This boy will not be won by love, sooner or later he will find his own will and will turn on me."

"Then that is your destiny." Her metal glove disappeared as she released Ken from her grip. She walked slowly over to the cringing boy, "I won't ever let him hurt you again. Your my little boy now, all mine." She took Ian into her arms and carried him into the enormous mansion. 

Ken could be seen in the background. The scene zoomed towards Ken's face, IRONS! His face was unmistakable it was Irons. He started to speak, "If she keeps this up, I will have to get rid of her, she cannot taint the boy. She will poison him towards me. Ian you're MINE and always will be MINE!" 

Ian woke up breathing heavily and cursing the name of Irons. His back twinged in pain, he felt blood trickle down his back, falling on his blankets. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep anymore tonight.

Across the city: Sara awoke in a cold sweat, she and Nottingham had shared another dream, or should she say nightmare. It was becoming clear to her now. So Constance was the woman's name. She was one of Irons' lovers and a blade wielder! Big tears filled Sara's eyes. She had felt Ian's pain, it was as if their two minds had joined during the dream, she was able to feel every emotion that he felt. Sara felt very close to him, even after waking up, she could feel that he was still in pain, emotional and physical. The Witchblade was opening her eyes, and she was opening her heart.


	3. Early Morning Meetings

Chapter 3: Early Morning Meetings

Chapter 3: Early Morning Meetings

It was three in the morning and Sara still could not get back to sleep after the dream she had just had. She decided that a long brisk walk was in order, something to give her time to think about what she had seen, and think about what she was feeling. She grabbed her jacket and gloves, it was going to be a cold morning; she could feel it. The Witchblade tightened on her wrist warming her right arm. Sara could since that this was not going to be a normal walk the minute she stepped out of her apartment complex and onto the sidewalk. The wind had a distinct chill in it, like something was coming. As she began to walk down the sidewalk toward her favorite bakery, she turned the opposite direction and started walking in the direction of Irons' home. The Witchblade breathed heavily on her arm. It had made her change directions, for what reason she did not yet know, but it only made noises like the heavy breathing when a certain person was around, Ian Nottingham.

Earlier that night: Ian was sitting on his couch, his face in his hands. The pain is his back had become almost unbearable. The last time Irons beat him like that was ten years ago. It had been for the same purpose, Constance. Ian had tried everything to erase her memory from his mind. He thought that he had forgotten her until yesterday, when he found a picture of her in Irons' top desk drawer. Had Irons really loved her? Ian doubted it; she had been a prized possession, nothing more. Constance had loved Irons that much was true. Ian could still remember the day she left a broken woman. Irons had stripped her of everything: her dignity, her pride, her love, and the Witchblade. Ian still did not know how Irons obtained the Witchblade from her, but he did know that it disappeared along with Constance shortly after she had left. Irons had been furious that day, throwing things around the room and at Ian. He could not believe that the Witchblade had willingly left him. She was his and his alone as everything Irons owned or thought that he owned. Ian's back spasmed in pain, shocking him back to the reality that he was one of Irons' possessions. He needed to get out, out of his apartment and out of his programmed life for at least an hour or two. He needed to be normal; not an enigmatic assassin, or Irons' bodyguard or even a guardian of the Witchblade; just a normal person, even if it would be just an hour. Ian redressed his wounded back and put on a pair of jeans and an old camo-green T-shirt. He was going to take a walk as a normal adult, and he wanted to look the part. He couldn't help but feel slightly afraid when he was out of his normal black assassin attire; his uniform was comforting and familiar. Anything and everything new that came into his life that was outside his "normal" routine was frightening. Just another thing that haunted him that he could thank Irons for. He walked over to his apartment door and out into the cold night.

Sara felt a strange presence drawing closer to her as she neared the city's park. A strange mist had risen all around her in a matter of seconds as she turned the corner to face the now gloomy looking park. Out of the mist rose strange noises, what sounded like child's laughter and a young woman's voice. It was haunting; Sara wanted to leave, to go back to her warm apartment and her strange dreams. She was just about to turn and walk away when the voices became clear, "Ian!" Sara stopped dead in her tracks, was this another vision? "Ian, get over here my little man." The woman's voice was gentle and filled with laughter. Sara could hear the laughter of a child. "Got you!" Sara jumped, the child laughed again with pure joy. "Ian, we need to go home."..."Do we have to?" The little boy's voice sounded very young...."Yes, we have to." The little boy called Ian, groaned. Sara focused her eyes, she could swear that she could see a woman and child's silhouette through the mist. The little boy was standing, straight and tall looking at the woman who was bending down to be at his height. The little boy dropped his head. "Ian, look at me." The little boy raised his head slowly, "Don't you ever think that just because HE tells you not to look him in the eye, means you can't look at me." The little boy reached out and hugged her neck. The woman stroked his curly hair. The Sara heard the little boy say something that made her eyes tear up, "May I call you mother?" The woman pulled the boy gently back to look at his face, her hand still stroking his hair. "Yes, I would be honored if you would call me your mother." The little boy grasped her tightly as she picked him up, "Just not around Ken, okay?"..."Okay." The woman and child started walking toward Sara out of the mist. 

Sara panicked, she turned to run, feeling like an eavesdropper and saw a person right in front of her. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" She screamed falling backwards onto the hard concrete. 

Danny was standing above her with a small smile on his face. "Things aren't always what they seem, are they?" She looked around and the mist was gone, along with the woman and child. "Um...I would help you up, but I don't have any matter." He smirked.

Sara picked herself off the ground, still looking around. "Why do you always have to scare me?" She was visibly shaken.

"Sorry, Pez." He rolled his eyes. "Doesn't look like I was your first haunting tonight though."

Sara's eyes were worried, "She was walking right towards me. I felt like I was disturbing a sacred place."

"This place is sacred."

"What do you mean? It's the park, not some sort of Indian burial ground." Her sarcasm made Danny laugh.

"It may not be that, but it is sacred to some people. You know who I'm talking about."

"Sara?" Sara jumped and would have had "an accident" if she had drunk a lot of water that night. 

She turned around to see Ian standing behind her with a freaked out expression on his face. His eyes were glassy, she could tell he was hurting from something. "Don't do that...ever...ever again!" Her voice was wavering.

"Sorry, were you talking to someone?" He raised his eyebrows at her. He looked different somehow tonight. He looked freer.

"Uh...no...I was talking to myself." Sara looked him over; he was wearing normal clothes! He was wearing a pair of old dark blue jeans and a ratty looking camo-green T-shirt. "What's up with the new look?" She smiled at him. He looked nice. He just looked at her blankly, and dropped his eye contact that he had held on her eyes. He hadn't realized how long he had been watching her face. "How long have you been behind me?" Sara asked sheepishly.

"Long enough to know that you weren't talking to yourself, Sara." He walked over to a park bench and sat down, keeping his back from touching it. Sara walked over and sat next to him. Her heart was racing and she knew that it was not from her recent scares. He was staring at a dark path that stretched out through the park. "So, why are you out tonight?" His voice sounded like a child's, "and why here?" He kept his eyes straightforward, staring into the night. Somehow he had known that he would meet her tonight, he also knew that she had shared the dream with him, she was bound to be curious about "her".

"I couldn't sleep." She paused noticing blood seeping through is shirt. "Uh, Ian?"

"What?"

"You back is bleeding..." She reached for his back and he stood up, moving away from her. "Let me look at it." She stood up and tried to reach for it again. He resisted and moved away. "You, idiot! You'll bleed to death, LET ME CHECK IT!!!"

He could tell that she was really upset and let her move toward him. She gently lifted the back of his shirt and was taken back by how many wounds were seeping through the gauze that he had applied. She tried to lift one of the gauze pads, "Enough." He said quietly pulling away. "I'm fine, leave it."

She felt his pain again, like in the dream. "You never told me why you came to the park tonight." She moved away from him to give him space, she could tell that he needed it.

"You know why, Sara." He turned to look at her.

She met his eyes with her own, "Is this place sacred to you?" She touched the bracelet on her wrist as it breathed heavily, "It's sacred, because...because of her, Constance." She watched his eyes fill with tears. "You came here with her a lot didn't you? When you were a boy?" Sara felt an urge to hold him.

He moved slowly over to a small patch of grass in the middle of the path. There was a small tree growing out of the middle of the patch. He touched its leaves and trunk with a gentleness that Sara had never seen. "We...planted this together. It was our secret. Something the Irons has never been able to kill." Bitterness was filling his voice and face. 

He dropped to his knees at the bottom of the tree and started sobbing like a baby. Sara walked over and knelt beside him. She lifted his drooping head and stroked his hair away from his face. His face had become that of a child's, longing for a mother to comfort him. Sara stared into his eyes. His hand went up to her face and he slowly leaned towards her. Their lips parted as both of them exhaled, they could feel each other's heartbeats racing, blood pulsing through their veins, making their body temperatures rise. Sara could feel the warmth of his other hand stroking her neck softly; she could feel his breathing on her face. It's like everything had become slow motion, her body was screaming waiting for the moment that their lips would meet. 

There was a loud *SNAP* and they both pulled away startled. Ian turned his eyes down the path, a woman stood there, hidden on the shadows. Ian sprang to his feet and the woman took off running. "Where are you going?" Sara yelled after him while starting to run herself.

Sara could barely keep up with him, but he could barely keep up with the woman. He yelled back at Sara, "It's her! It's Constance, my mother!!" 

Sara watched as Ian's exhaustion mixed with his blood loss, he dropped to the ground, unconscious. As Sara feel at Ian's body, his breathing was shallow. Sara held him as the woman disappeared into the night. 


	4. Playing Doctor

Chapter 4: Playing Doctor

Chapter 4: Playing Doctor

It had taken Sara an hour to carry and drag Ian back to her apartment. She had the hardest time trying to get his large frame up the stairs. He was much heavier than she thought when she was just looking at him. She was worried about him. He was not acting like himself; he was actually showing emotion! This night had been one of the weirdest to date for Sara. First the nightmare, then she saw that strange vision in the park, then she was scared not once, but twice and now Ian was laying on her bed bleeding to death. "Okay, Sara, breathe..." She tried to calm herself down and catch her breath as she removed his now blood drenched shirt. Had the woman they saw really been Constance? She was so confused now that she had to think of one thing at a time, which was going to have to be stopping Ian from bleeding. She gritted her teeth as she rolled his lean, yet by now VERY heavy, body onto his stomach. She had to get to his wounds. The gauze he had wrapped himself with was not doing the job; it was dripping and oozing blood. When she removed it the smell of infection drifted up to her nose. How could he have let himself get this bad? Now that she thought about it, she had never seen him hurt before, it was strange seeing him laying on her bed, helpless, vulnerable, not at all the invincible assassin she once knew. His breathing was shallow and raspy, not a good sign. Sara knelt beside the bed and looked at his sleeping face, "Hang in there, okay? Don't' you go and die on me." The wounds on his back looked like he had been whipped. Her teakettle whistled at her. She soaked some towels in the hot water and placed them on his wounds. The pain of the hot water in his wounds startled him out of his unconscious state. He tried to sit up, Sara held him down, "Stay put, you'll start bleeding again." She could tell that he was disoriented. His eyes were still a little glassy and were incoherent. 

He got lightheaded again and stopped struggling. "Sara?" His voice was a whisper.

"Yes, Nottingham?" She stroked his hair out of his face. Her hand brushed his forehead; he had a fever.

"What happened?" He moved his head a little so that he could see her face. 

"You collapsed when you were chasing that woman. You have lost a lot of blood." Sara pressed down on the wet towels and Ian cringed at the pain. 

She could see his eyes looking around the room. "I am in your apartment...how..." He was cut off by a sudden attack of chills, he was gasping for air.

"Breathe!" Sara rolled him onto his side so his airway would become unobstructed. His body shook violently. She climbed onto the bed and held his body close to hers. Their faces were inches apart. She looked into his eyes, "Breathe...it's not your time to die!" She held his head in-between her hands and looked into his eyes. His breathing slowed and became less labored as she cradled him in her arms. 

His body calmed and she felt his arms push her away, "It's...over...for...now." He managed to speak between heavy breathing. She helped him back to his stomach and picked up the towels. He watched her walk tiredly over to the sink and throw the towels in. Why had she helped him? He thought that she didn't trust him, why would she trust him now?

"I'm going to put this ointment on your back, it's going to sting." She walked over to him with a big bottle in her hand. He watched her body sway back and forth as she walked toward her bed and sat down. The ointment did sting, badly, and Ian had to bite his lip to keep from yelling. His whole body felt exhausted, he didn't feel like he could ever move again. Sara wrapped his back with fresh gauze and helped Ian roll over onto his back. Once he was tucked in with warm sheets, she felt his forehead; the fever had broken. "Your fever broke." She pulled up a chair next to her bed never taking her eyes off of his tired face. "He did this to you, didn't he?" Sara's face was angry.

Ian moved his eyes off her to look at the ceiling, "And what would you do if I told you it was him?" He kept his eyes on the ceiling. "Kill him?" He said turning to face her.

Sara quickly looked away. She knew that she couldn't kill Irons, but boy did she want to. Her eyes became teary, she wiped them away before they could fall, "Then at least tell me why. I deserve that much after saving your life." The bitterness he had shown in his face earlier that morning had transferred to her.

"I said something I shouldn't have. I could have kept this from myself, Sara, but I didn't." Bitterness filled his face, "He wouldn't let me." Ian sighed, "There is nothing that you can or will do, Sara." He reached over and touched her face with the tips of his fingers. Sara grabbed his hand and squeezed it. She started to get up to go sleep on the couch. "Sara," Ian's voice was childish again, "stay." Sara knew what he meant; he needed her as much as she needed him. She crawled into the bed and laid her head on his chest. They both surrendered to their sleep and didn't dream all night. 


	5. Of Women and The Witchblade

Chapter 5: Of Women and the Witchblade

Chapter 5: Of Women and the Witchblade

Irons paced his large dark office. Ian had been gone almost the whole night after he had "taught him a lesson". He was worried, not for Ian's safety, but for his own. Ian had become more and more unruly since Sara had come into their lives. He thought of Constance and smiled, it always was a woman that had come between Irons and Ian. Irons needed Ian, he could never obtain the Witchblade without Ian; he knew that all too well. When Irons took Constance as his lover, he was sure that she would be the one who would hand over the Witchblade. She had loved him, he was sure of it. No TRUE blade wielder had ever loved him, until her. His life was perfect, but then he had to go and choose his guardian in a young brat. Constance ended up loving Ian more than she loved him, that is why Irons would beat Ian so brutally when he would bring her memory back into their life, Irons was jealous. He knew that he hadn't loved her in return, there was only one love in his life, the Witchblade, yet he was truly and bitterly jealous of Ian. He had been a mere boy, only five years old, but he had had a stronger affect on Constance than Irons ever had. Once she had left them, Ian became his. It took no longer than a year to break his spirits; it was mere child's play. Ian was always going to be his, the Witchblade had Ian's will, nothing could break it, not even Sara Pezzini, who seemingly had unknowingly captured Ian's heart. He had to win him over again. "She reminds him of Constance. Sara's will and spirit are the same as hers." His face filled with evil laughter, "That's it! That's the key!" He walked over to his desk and dialed the phone; this was going to be fun.

Sara awoke with a start, first good night of sleep that she was getting and the phone had to go and ring. She got chill when her feet hit the cold floor. The phone rang one more time and her answering machine picked it up. "Hello, this is Pez, leave a message will ya?" She stopped and stood in front of the phone, waiting to see who was calling. "Hello, Sara. You don't know me but I need to talk to you ASAP, today at 6:00pm in the old abandoned subway, come alone," There was a long pause, "I gotta go someone is coming..." The phone clicked and the annoying busy signal beeped at her. Sara stood perplexed with the strange voice she had heard. It had sounded strangely familiar. She turned to go back to bed and noticed an empty bed. "Ian?" She checked her whole apartment and found no one. She flopped onto her couch with her head in her hands. Why did he leave? He was in no condition to leave. She felt a worried feeling rush over her. What if he starts bleeding again? She pounded her fist against the arm of her couch. "What am I doing?" She rolled her eyes, "He's an assassin, he can take care of himself." Her heart denied this thought to her, but her will and mind was stronger than her heart. Last night had just been a mistake. She was thinking about their "brush" of closeness in the park. Why had she wanted to kiss him? He was a nice looking man, but he wasn't her type. She pushed the memory into the back of her mind trying to bury it and got ready for work. She needed to be wide-awake for her mysterious meeting in the evening and thinking of midnight rendezvous with Ian was not a very restful thing. 

Ian's body felt like it had been through a war. It had taken all his strength to pull himself out from under Sara without waking her. Plus, he hadn't wanted to leave. She was warm against him; it was comforting. Much better than the cold street he was walking down now. He had awakened about two hours after they had both fallen asleep and decided that him being in her bed and apartment was wrong. Even if it was because he was hurt, he didn't need the temptation, especially after what they almost did in the park. Irons was right, Constance made him weak and so did Sara. He needed to return to Irons and make amends, everything Irons had done to him was deserved, even the lashing. He just hoped that Irons wouldn't still be mad. 

Sara climbed off her motorcycle and walked quickly into the station. Jake met Sara with a big smile, "Looks like you woke up on the wrong side of the bed. What's wrong?"

Sara noticed that she had been grimacing and frowning all morning, she must look completely upset. Well, now that she thought about it, she was. She smiled a small smile and punched Jake lightly on the shoulder, "I'm not the one who has permanent bed-head." 

He frowned and then laughed it off. "Okay, fine, you're right." They walked into their small office. "You haven't missed anything. It's been a slow morning." He kicked his feet up onto the desk. 

Sara made herself comfortable across from him in her chair and leaned her head back. "I've had a very interesting night. A very tiring night. A very, very strange night, so bare with me today, okay." 

"Detective Sara Pezzini?" 

Sara picked her head up to see Jake staring at a very beautiful woman, who had just come though their door. "That would be me." She said looking the woman up and down. The woman looked no older than her late twenties and was tall, thin and blonde. Yet she didn't look fragile. Sara could tell that she could take care of herself if she had to.

The woman looked over at Jake, "Um...could we talk alone?" Jake got the hint and jumped out of his seat closing the door behind him as he left, he had learned to give all women their space.

"So, what can I do for you?" Sara offered the woman a seat. She sat down gracefully, smoothing her black skirt.

"You already know." The woman's eyes flashed, Sara could tell that the woman's looks deceived her true age.

"Who are you?" Sara was getting a bit uneasy. 

The woman leaned forward and pointed to Sara bracelet, "Your pretty trinket has already told you." 

Sara looked at the woman wide-eyed, "You know about this?" She said holding up the Witchblade. The Witchblade breathed at her as though it was trying to talk.

"Aww, I miss that sound." The woman closed her eyes and breathed in and out along with the Witchblade's breathing. "You know when you breathe along with it, it calms you?" She opened her eyes again and looked at Sara directly in the eyes, "You know who I am now?"

"Constance?" Sara whispered. Sara saw the woman's eye answer her question.

"So what do you think of him?" The woman answered, her voice was as smooth as satin.

"Think of who?" Sara tried to sound naive.

"You know who, Sara, my little man. Or should I say, very big man, now." Sara watched a loving smile stretch across her face.

"Ian Nottingham." 

The woman looked at Sara in surprise, "You still say his name with distrust and malice. I expected it to sound different, after..." She stopped as if trying to gather the right words, "After, all you two have been through, together." Her eyes looked as though they were digging into Sara's soul.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sara's tone had become defensive, but she knew that the woman was right. She and Ian had known each other for months now and he had never tried to harm her in any way. She hated admitting it, but she had started to trust him.

The woman looked at Sara and her face changed from the smile to a worried look. "I need your help." She looked down at her hands that were in her lap.

Sara noticed a small scar on the woman's right hand, "Like I said before, what can I do for you?" 

"I'm here to make a deal." She saw Sara looking at her scar and covered it with her other hand. 

"What kind of deal?"

"I'll help you take down Kenneth Irons Empire." The woman's face filled with pain from the past. 

"And..." Sara leaned forward in her seat, "What do you get out of it?" She couldn't help feeling excited at the thought of ruining Irons; it made her want to laugh out loud.

The woman's eyes flashed, "Revenge, of course." 

"I can't help but feel that you want something more."

Sara saw tears fill her eyes, "I give Ian something that he's never had, freedom." The woman, known as Constance was crying inside, but her tough exterior wouldn't allow it to come out. Sara's heart broke for her; the Witchblade had revealed her pain to Sara.

Sara leaned toward Constance, "Let's finish our discussion somewhere more private, come home with me." Constance nodded and they walked out of the station. Sara felt like she finally had a woman that she could open up to, and she was going to take advantage of it. This woman could tell Sara so many things that she wanted to know, and Constance wanted to tell her everything, there was no reason to hold anything back. It would be therapy for both of them.


	6. The Tale of Constance

Chapter 6: The Tale of Constance

Chapter 6: The Tale of Constance

Irons stood at his window that overlooked the city. It is beautiful. The automatic doors to his office opened with an electronic purring. "Hello, Nottingham." He turned to greet Ian as he slowly walked into Irons' office, head down, eyes to the floor. Irons tilted his head and smirked, "Where have you been? I was worried." Ian knew very well that he hadn't been worried, he kept silent, trying to make amends for the past couple days. "So, you were with Sara?" Ian's head snapped up, his eyes glared into Irons', "Ooo, did I hit a nerve?" Irons walked slowly over to Ian. He stepped so close that he was only inches away from Ian's face. Ian dropped his eyes, he couldn't look Irons in the eyes for too long, it burned his soul. Irons kept looking at Ian and walked around him stopping at his ear, Irons' whisper sent chills up and down Ian's back, "Was she good?" Ian felt as though every word utter was tightening a noose around his throat, "You did sleep with her did you not?" Irons hovered to Ian's other ear, "Proved your manhood." Irons watched as Ian's body started to hunch over, his head drooping to his chest. This was what Irons wanted to break him down, just like he had when he was a boy. All he needed was one more stab to prove to whom Ian was loyal now, "Oh wait, you are not a man." Ian shut his eyes tightly, holding in the furious anger that was rising inside of him; hot tears fell down his cheeks. Irons final words hissed in Ian's ears, like a serpent hissing at its prey, "You are a robot, an unfeeling piece of stone, my precious lethal property. You can never love, can never feel, you will never be loved, you are mine and always will be!" Ian body shot into motion taking Irons to the ground. Ian kicked Irons and fell upon him striking him with both fists. He mercilessly beat him, and stepping off him he looked at Irons while drawing his sword. With a mighty war cry, Ian brought his blade down upon Irons.

Sara and Constance and been talking for over an hour about the Witchblade and it's powers. Sara couldn't believe some of the things that Constance said the Witchblade could do. Most of them were unimportant at the moment, what Sara wanted to know now was Constance's story, it intrigued her. 

Constance looked at Sara, "There's more you want to know, I can tell." Her eyes seemed to hold countless wisdom.

"Uh...yes. I want to know about you." Sara smiled at her and offered her more tea. Constance took her third cup of tea and sat back in the big armchair she was seated in.

Her story unfolded not just in Sara's ears, but in front of Sara's eyes. She was seeing it as a vision; Constance was controlling the Witchblade through Sara. Constance's voice echoed through Sara's mind, "When I met Ken I was barely eighteen and very naive. He offered the world to me, and the Witchblade. He seemed so wonderful, everything a young girl would want in a man. I fell in love..."

Sara could see a younger version of Constance standing in a big bedroom. She was wearing a flowing silk bathrobe. Kenneth Irons walked slowly over to her holding a beautiful silver bracelet. "For you, to enhance your beauty." Constance took it from him and slid it on her wrist. Sara watched as Irons removed her clothing, stroking her thin firm body. He kissed her neck and whispered in her ear, "You are mine now, you are my magnificent creature, you will be my savior." They fell on a bed in heated passion.

"He promised me everything, the Witchblade provided it, and somehow I was able to still keep my sanity throughout the next two years. I believed everything he told me, I was in love with being in love. It blinded me. Everyday he trained me more and more to make a perfect warrior, every night was filled with passion and the Witchblade ate it up, it loved the sensations I was giving it." Constance turned toward Sara, Sara opened her eyes, "It feeds on the sensations that you give it as well, Sara. The sensations you feel when Ian is around." 

Sara looked her and rolled her eyes, "What sensations?"

"You know, Sara." Constance pulled Sara back into the story, "Two years later he and I read his ancient book cover to cover. It spoke of a male child that was going to be born a child that would have special gifts, a child that could wield the Witchblade when he came of age. Irons told me to find him. I used the Witchblade's powers for months and didn't find a thing. Then one day I was walking by an old run down orphanage, on one of the oldest streets in New York. I felt the Witchblade pull me towards it as if it was controlling my body. Once I was inside the building I knew that "he" there..."

Constance walked up to a filthy desk, an old woman was sitting behind it, typing on a typewriter, "May I see a list of all the children you have in your home?" The old woman looked up from her work and slid a pile of tattered pieces of paper toward Constance. Constance flipped through them quickly letting the Witchblade guide her. Her hand stopped above a little five-year-old boy. Constance held out the little boy's name, "May I see this child?" 

The old woman looked at the name and hesitated, "He's a strange on, he is. Talks to himself and all, are you sure you want to see him?"

"Take me to him."

Constance was brought down a long hall and into a small room. The room had a two-way mirror in it. The old woman pointed toward the window and walked out of the room. The Witchblade hissed and breathed at her telling her to move to the window. She walked silently to the window and peered through. On the other side was a little boy with dark curly hair, he was talking to himself, "You heard me, drop your weapons!" He was holding out a small tree branch and was swiping it back and forth as if he was slaying a dragon. "Take this and this..." He twirled around the room jabbing at the invisible enemies. 

Constance laughed covering her mouth with her hands. She thought he was adorable, but she was there on business, she watched him for two hours, the boy never tired. He was still running around the room. Constance was convinced; this little boy was who they were looking for. 

"I went straight home and told Ken, he was intrigued. As soon as Ken saw the boy for himself he was convinced as well. I asked him what he had planned for the boy. He told me that the boy would receive training overseas as soon as possible. I asked him what type of training there would be. He told me that the boy would be trained in the ways of the Samurai and the Knights Templar. I told him that I would help him as long as the boy came to no harm, he agreed and I went and picked him up. The adoption was completed under my name. Ian was mine; he never legally belonged to Irons. I had the boy keep his own name, so he could know where he came from. The trouble started as soon as I brought him home. You already know what happened, Sara"

"Yes, I dreamt about it. What happened after that day?" 

"Ken was abusing Ian everyday, beating him and making him do things that a five year old should never be asked to do."

"Like what?"

"Ken made him kill a kitten one time, Ian told me afterwards. Otherwise I would not have ever known what Ken had been doing. Ken had kept it well hidden. I walked in on Ken smacking Ian around; it was shortly after he had called me mother. But you knew that, Sara..."

Constance ran into the large study, yelling for Ken to leave Ian alone, Ken threw Ian against a wall knocking him unconscious. He went after Constance, "He loves you! You have turned him completely against me. Now I have to brainwash him! You were not the one I thought you were!" He grabbed her by the throat, picking her up off the ground with strength that she had never known he had had. She yelled for the Witchblade to help her. "It doesn't hear you! It obeys me now!" He threw her to the floor, she felt her wrist fill with pain, the Witchblade had turned on, it was angry and it was burning her. She tried to pull it off screaming at Irons to help her. He sat on top of her and ripped her blouse open, "Lets make love one last time, like we always did. You, me, and the Witchblade." She screamed and the Witchblade hissed its anger, burning her skin. 

"My screams were in vain. He raped and beat me for two hours. Then he released me. The Witchblade had wanted to fight him, it had wanted to protect me, but he had stopped it somehow. When I had given up the struggle was when the burning ceased; it slipped from my arm. It left the scar you saw earlier today and the scars I'll show you now." She pulled her sleeve up to her elbow, what Sara saw was horrible. Constance's arm looked like it had been baked, the skin was discolored and it hung like the skin of an eighty-year-old. Constance covered her arm and went on speaking, "He spared my life and sent me away, but he vowed that if I ever returned that he would kill me. I was so terrified that I ran out without looking back. I left him, Ian, I left him there with THAT man." Constance's cheeks were covered in tears when she had finished. Sara moved towards her and embraced her as she cried silently.


	7. Mr. Big

Chapter 7: Mr

Chapter 7: Mr. Big

Ian's sword came screaming down toward Irons' neck. Ian felt himself becoming free as the tip of the blade cut into the surface of Irons skin, then a sharp pain shot into his shoulder sending him stumbling backwards, smashing into one of Irons' statues. Ian's vision began to blur as a large man moved over him and towards Irons. "Sir are you okay?" The man's voice boomed. Ian could see Irons stand and regain his composure. 

Irons walked quickly over to Ian and stooped at his body, "What did you inject him with?" Irons pulled a small dart out of Ian's chest. Ian felt Irons hitting his cheek lightly, Ian felt paralyzed.

The man walked over to Irons and stood over Ian, "Only a temporary paralysis injection." 

"How long until he can move again?" Irons stood to look the big man in the eyes. He had to look up to do that. The man and Irons moved across the room and spoke in lower tones, Ian could not hear what they were saying. Ian watched as Irons grew angry, "I had everything under control!"

"All I saw was some insane bodyguard slashing at my bosses throat!"

"I am not your boss anymore, you are merely here for a job and then you leave again."

"You never should have replaced me." Ian had been a replacement for that big guy? "Anyway, I always protected you better than the psycho laying over there on the floor!"

"You got me shot back in '59." Ian saw the man bow his head in shame.

"I know, I-I'm sorry." The big man's right hand was missing all it's fingers. He must have worn the Witchblade as well; it seemed everyone who worked under Irons was made to wear it. 

Irons put a hand on the big man's shoulder. "I did call you, because Ian is a faulty weapon at this moment in time. I have to brainwash him again, unless he decides to join me on his own. Will you take him to the dark room?" 

Ian tried to move with all his strength, he did not want to go to the dark room, it had been one of the many terrors of his childhood. The big man was easily a foot taller and 200lbs. Heavier than Ian. There was no chance; the dark room was waiting. The big man picked Ian up and carried him across the room and down a long hall. By the time they reached the "dark room" Ian was struggling for all he was worth, the paralysis drug was wearing off, it was no use the man tossed him into the small 3'X3' room and slammed the door before Ian could run out. The room had been well named; no light was visible anywhere. A scream welled up from inside his chest, but he held it in. This room was what Irons had used to break Ian right after Constance had left. He knew that the reason he was in the room again was for the same reason, to break his will, so that he would be everything that Irons had called him earlier. Ian stood in the middle of the room and tried to think of anything but the room. A familiar image came into his mind and he felt peace come over him. He was thinking of Sara.

The big man walked slowly back into Irons office, "So what's the kid's name?" His voice rumbled his footstep made the room shake.

"Ian Nottingham. He has been a good employee. The problem I have now is controlling his will. It seems that he has found someone's company he prefers over mine and I had just verbally abused him right before you came in. I was testing him to see where his loyalty lied. It lies with a woman." Irons sat down in hi big desk chair.

"Your man has chosen a woman over the Witchblade?" The big man sat himself across from Irons.

"No, she is a blade wielder as well. It seems that Ian has always gone for women like her ever since my lover mothered him. Do you remember Constance?" Irons pulled a picture out of his top desk drawer and slid across the desk.

The big man picked it up and shook his head, "I think you had already laid me off, pretty chick though." He slid it back towards Irons.

"Keep it, she's your target. I need her killed in order to break Nottingham for good. You see Nottingham is the one that the book talked about, the male child who will one day be able to wear the Witchblade." Irons opened up one of his drawers and pulled out a shiny piece of metal. It was a bullet, "This bullet was made from a piece of the Witchblade. Constance rose with the help of the Witchblade and she will die by it as well. Use the bullet wisely. If Sara Pezzini, the new blade wielder, gets involved, do not harm her!" He placed the bullet in the big man's hand. Then Irons rose from his seat and walked out of the room.

The big man clutched the bullet in his hand. The cold metal of the Witchblade felt so good. He hadn't had a taste from it in so long; it had made him lose his fingers on his right hand. He cursed under his breath as he rose to his feet, "Irons will want me back after I'm down with this Constance woman. He will NEED me back after I kill Nottingham. Yes, Nottingham must die. No one pushes Mr. Big out of his rightful place, NO ONE!"

Ian felt at the walls that surrounded him. He had been in the room for over two hours now and made no progress of escaping. His eyes had adjusted and he could make out the dimensions of the room. No cracks, no keyholes, nothing to help him escape. He looked up to the ceiling and caught a glimpse of a trap door. It was about twenty feet above him. "That's my way out." He whispered to himself as he started to chimney climb up the walls. When he reached the door he hit it with his ring on his fist, the door swung open, and light poured into the room. As he climbed out, he noticed that the door led to the roof. Ian jumped out of the opening and ran to the side of the building. There were no fire escapes or ladders. His only way out was back through Irons building. He would have to pass hundreds of security guards and other "warriors" of Irons. He knew that he had to do it, he needed to get to Sara. Irons was planning something, but as of yet Nottingham didn't know what it was, all he knew was he needed to protect her. It was his job and his destiny; he knew that now. He also knew finally what the pangs in his stomach and the racing of his heart meant when he was around her; he was in love. He loved Sara.


	8. Things That Go *Bump* In The Night

Chapter 8: Things That Go *Bump* In The Night

Chapter 8: Things That Go *Bump* In The Night

Nottingham had managed to sneak past most of the guards and had made his way quietly down to the second story. He walked slowly down a long hall keeping a lookout for guards. His feet made no sound; it was like he was walking on air. A door opened out into the hall and a large guard stepped out and turned down the hall. His eyes grew wide when he saw Ian. Ian stood in the middle of the hall, looking the man straight in the eyes. The guard pressed a button on his collar, "Everyone knows that you're here now." Ian cocked his head to the side and ran towards the guard, taking him out before he could even retaliate. More guards piled out of the doors and ran towards Ian. The fight was on. Fist flew toward Nottingham only to be slammed into other guard's faces. Men were thrown through the air banging against the walls and pounding against the ground unconscious. The men began to panic. It was as though they were fighting a demon. They all dog piled on him; Ian squeezed out from under the pile and walked calmly to the window. The men beat at the nonexistent prisoner. 

Ian opened the second story window and climbed onto the ledge. This was going to be the tallest jump he had ever made but he had to make it. He turned towards the men, "Goodbye boys." He said smiling. The men stopped punching and turned just in time to see Nottingham leap from the ledge. One of the men ran to the window. He saw a man dressed in a black trenchcoat running into the shadows of the night. The guards sighed, he was going to get a lot of crap for this one; Nottingham had escaped. 

Sara left Constance to get her another cup of tea. As she lifted the pot she absentmindedly looked at her watch, it was almost 6:00pm!! Sara dropped the pot on the stove spilling water all over her counter and partially on herself. "Dang it!!" She was brushing the water off her sweater, cursing under her breath when Constance reached over and touched her shoulder. "Spilled water on myself." Sara half spoke to herself.

"What else is wrong, Sara?" Constance seemed to have a way of seeing through Sara.

Sara walked over to her closet and pulled her leather jacket off the hanger, "I'm late for a meeting. I was supposed to be there two minutes ago!" She walked quickly to the door, "Just make yourself at home, okay? I'll be back soon, if Ian drops by, like he always does, just ignore him and he'll go away. That is if you don't want to talk to him. I'm sorry I have to run out on you." 

Constance smiled at her and pushed her out the door, "Go, I'll be fine."

An hour had passed and Sara was not back yet, Constance had made herself comfortable and was reclining in Sara's Lazy Boy. She had never felt so alive. She was able to tell Sara things she had never told another living soul. She had opened her heart to someone and it hadn't been ripped out and stomped on. With Sara, all of her past would be avenged and she would finally regain her "son". She was feeling very happy. As she laid her head back against the couch the phone rang, startling her out of the bliss she was feeling. She figured she might as well answer it for Sara, so she walked over and picked up the phone. "Hello?" She panicked when she heard the voice on the other end.

"Hello, Constance. It's been a very long time..."

Constance slammed the phone down, grabbed her coat and ran to the window. Somehow Irons had found her. She knew that she was dead if she stayed in Sara's apartment. She figured that she had a better chance escaping through the alley. She climbed out of the window and down the stairs. There was no moon tonight and Constance bumped into and tripped over everything in her path. Her breathing was labored as she turned the corner of the alley. A bus pulled up to the sidewalk and she made a mad dash towards it looking behind her as she ran. Then all of the sudden she smacked into a soft body. She screamed as two arms wrapped around her. A large hand covered her mouth, and all was silent.

Earlier that evening: Sara climbed off of her motorcycle and walked quickly into the old subway. "Hello? Anybody here?" Sara's voice and footsteps echoed off of the cement walls. She walked slowly toward the tracks and stopped abruptly. Two footsteps fell after she had stopped walking; her skin crawled with chills. She took two more steps and stopped again as the sound of footsteps hit her ears again. When she started to move this time she pulled her gun and turned around quickly. She saw a figure duck behind a beam right after she had turned. "All right! Whoever you are, you better step out from behind that beam slowly with your hands in the air!" A large man walked slowly out from behind the beam. He had his hands raised high above his head. "Come on keep moving!" She waved her gun telling him to move towards her. The man stood three feet away from her, when she finally saw his face. He was a very big man; he had to be at least seven feet tall and over 300lbs. His face was scarred and pockmarked. Tiny black eyes peered through his stringy black hair. "Why were you following me?" She kept her gun trained on his head. He just blinked at her stupidly. "Answer!" She lifted her gun to his head poking it between his eyes. Before she could react he had grabbed her arm that was holding the gun and twisted it behind her back. She struggled against his iron grip, yelling at the Witchblade to help her. He picked her up and threw her against a large cement beam, she heard her ribs crack as she rolled across the ground. The large man straddled her and pinned her arms to the ground. Sara kicked him over and over, fighting for all she was worth. The man looked at her right wrist and noticed the bracelet that gleamed on her arm. He pulled it off her wrist, put it in his pocket and smacked her across the face. She reached her head towards his arm and bit it, noticing that his hand had no fingers, she recoiled in disgust. His face filled with an evil grin as he pinned both her hands underneath her leaving his hand with fingers free to roam. She gritted her teeth as his hand groped her leg and moved towards her chest. There was a loud *THUMP* and his large body fell limp on top of her. "Get him off of me, someone help me please!!!" Her voice echoed around the room. She felt the body being rolled off of her; she saw a figure above her.

"You're okay now, Miss." The voice was familiar. Sara's eye started to focus. The man standing above her had dirty blonde hair and sunken in eyes. She had seen him before, in fact she had seen him everywhere she went, she had always thought he was just some strange homeless guy. "Miss, you gotta come with me. It ain't safe here no more. That guy ain't gonna stay asleep for good." He helped Sara to her feet; she leaned against him and limped with him towards the exit of the subway. She felt her head spinning; she probably had a concussion. She cursed and looked back at the large man. His body started to move. "He's awake, we need to run, now!" Sara looked at the blonde man in surprise; he hadn't even turned around to see the man moving. He started running, half-dragging Sara behind him. She stumbled along, her body felt weak. They ran up a dark alley and the man made a sharp turn towards the wall. Sara held up her arms preparing for the impact of the wall, to her surprise they pasted through the wall and into a small dimly lit room. A brick covered door closed behind them. The man covered Sara's mouth as the sound of large footsteps sounded outside the hidden room. They stopped right in front of the wall. Sara's heart leaped up into her throat. She felt like screaming, but she held it in as the man yelled in the alley. His voice boomed and bounced off the walls. "I've got the Witchblade, Sara. You've got to come out sometime. There's an old abandoned warehouse on Hope Street. Be there, tomorrow night, if you want the Witchblade back and bring Constance!!" They heard the sound of his footsteps again; they grew quieter as he left the alley. The man released her and he laid her gently against the cold brick wall. Sara watched as her vision blurred and went black. 


	9. Lost and Found

Chapter 9: Lost and Found

Chapter 9: Lost and Found

Constance struggled against the strong arms that encircled her. She tried to bite the hand that covered her mouth, but it was no use, this person was just too strong. The person pulled her back into the alley that she had run out of, probably to "off" me in the dark, no witnesses. She could see her life flashing before her eyes, why had she become so comfortable? She had thought that she was safe, that no one could possibly know who she was, except Irons. But how had he known she was at Sara's apartment? He hadn't seen her... Many thoughts swirled through her mind and then Ian's face, as a little boy, came swirling by and froze in front of her face. I'm so sorry, she thought to herself, I should have saved you when I had a chance, but I got careless and now I'm going to die, leaving you with that monster. She surrendered to her attacker's grip, it was no use; her life was over.

A sigh fell from Irons' lips; he had reamed out every one of the guards that had let Ian pass. He knew that there had been no way for then to stop Ian, he was unstoppable, yet Irons knew his weaknesses. Ian was the puppet and Irons was the puppeteer. Irons knew which strings to pull and when, he had even had a way out of the last tiff, when Ian had tried to kill him. It hadn't been the first time, but it did seem that Ian was becoming more rebellious since Sara had entered the scene. That's why he had called in Mr. Big, his old bodyguard. Mr. Big loved killing people; it was one of his hobbies. Irons knew that Mr. Big would complete the task Irons had set before him, but Irons had felt uneasiness when Big had seen Ian. He had just sent him to Sara's apartment, which had been a reluctant decision. He didn't trust Big with Sara, but that was the only place Constance may be. Big had always been overly protective and jealous, almost as if he loved Irons like a father. Irons needed to keep a close watch of Mr. Big. He felt that there was something that Big had planned that he could not see through. It made him nervous. "As soon as Big is done, I'm getting rid of him for good."

Constance was still being drug through the alley, this person hadn't tired, and he was still just as strong. She had completely given up by now. She felt herself stop, or should she say the attacker stopped and turned her around to see face to face. Constance gasped, big tears rolled down her cheeks as she looked at her attackers face. "Ian? I-is it you?" She grabbed his face gently with both hands inspecting the tall, dark and handsome man that stood before her. His hand that had been covering her mouth went up to a loose strand of hair that had fallen in her face and brushed it away. He removed his black cap and fiddled with it in his hands. Her heart was pounding as she recognized the hazel eyes that stared at her and the long black hair curled by his face. "It is you!" She embraced him. She felt his body loosen as he let her hold him. She pulled away and looked at his face. "You are so handsome, look at you..." She stepped backwards holding him far enough away to take in his complete form. "So tall and strong." There was no fear inside of her anymore; she felt a peace. He was standing in front of her, her son; he was magnificent. 

He dropped his head, still fiddling with his cap, "We need to get out of here, it's not safe." He gently grabbed her hand and walked her up the fire escape and into Sara's apartment. He stopped right inside the window. Constance pulled his arm, "Come on in, Sara won't mind, she wants to help me." Ian stood his ground; there was no way that Constance could have pulled him in. "What's wrong?" She stroked his face.

He had forgotten what it had felt like to be loved, "She wouldn't want me to go further inside." He knew that this must sound insane or childish to Constance, but he was nervous about new things, and there were a lot of new things happening to him recently.

Constance tugged on his arm again, "Believe me, she won't mind." He walked slowly with her to the couch. "Sit down, I'll make us some coffee." Constance went into the kitchen and went about starting a pot of coffee. Constance breathed in the aroma of the rich coffee as it began to boil. She turned around and saw that Ian was standing in front of the couch just staring at it. She felt laughter rising in her chest, she tried stopping it but it was too late, she burst out laughing. Ian turned around and looked at her with a perplexed look on his face. She walked over to Ian and pulled his coat off, against his will. "Make yourself comfortable, or else." She pointed a finger in his face and smiled. He looked at her like a little boy who had just gotten in trouble, and sat down on the couch. She walked over to Sara's closet and hung up Ian's coat. 

"Constance?" His voice sounded far away. He looked up at her with teary eyes. She saw the little boy in his eyes, so trusting, just wanting to be loved. She walked over to the couch and sat down. Ian didn't take his eyes off of hers. He reached out for her; she grabbed his large frame and pulled him close to her. "I missed you." Her eyes teared up at his soft whisper, "I love you, Mother." 

She felt his body start to quake and she realized that he was trying not to cry. Trying to be a man, just like Irons had taught him to be no emotion. She cradled him in her arms smoothing his hair. Oh, how she had longed to be his real mother. She had longed to hold him like this to always be there for him. She had wanted to help him through his teens and wanted to watch him go to college, but no, he hadn't been granted a normal life and neither had she. She hoped that somehow she would be able to make it up to him. She had to take down Irons she just had to.

Sara was awakened by water dripping on her face. She opened her eyes and realized that she was still in the strange hidden room. The man who had helped her was busy cooking eggs in an old skillet. He turned to her as she propped herself up against the wall. "How are you feeling?" She gave him a "you know" look while rubbing her head. He smiled at her and went back to making eggs. 

Sara rubbed her arms; it was freezing in here. She rubbed her right wrist and felt her heart drop into her stomach, her wrist was naked! Flashes of her ordeal came back to her, the man on top of her, pinning her arms... her eyes widened as she remembered the incident, he had taken the Witchblade!! The Witchblade was gone! "I lost it!" She scolded herself. "Now I have to get it back, from that APEMAN!!"

The man turned towards her with the eggs and put to on a plate for her, "Don't worry so much, it will come back to you. One thing that was lost was found tonight, and you will find the Witchblade too." He handed her the plate and a fork. Sara looked at him lifting one eyebrow. No more riddles, mumbo jumbo crap, she thought. He looked at her like he had heard her thoughts. "A little lost and found never hurt anybody." The man smiled at her. 

"Oh, great." She whispered to herself. Another psycho, why does everyone that I meet have to be psycho? She took a big bite of egg. This was going to be a very long day. 


	10. Who Can You Trust?

Chapter 10: Who Can You Trust

Chapter 10: Who Can You Trust?

The door to Irons office slide open. He turned to see Mr. Big standing in it nearly covering the doorframe with his huge body. Irons started to speak as Mr. Big pointed a gun at Irons and fired. Irons felt the metal pierce his skin. A numbing sensation rushed through his body as he fell to the floor. Big had used the paralyzing drug on him. How could he have let this happen? He lay on the floor looking at the ceiling fan spinning. Big's form moved over him covering the light. All Irons could see was a fuzzy silhouette. "You're probably wondering why I double crossed you." Big's mouth curved in a sinister smile. "Well, let me explain, from the beginning." He pulled up one of Irons' chairs and sat above his fallen victim. "It's a long story, but then you're not going anywhere." Laughter filled the air. Big's laughter was like the rumbling of thunder. "The day you fired me, you had me followed." He leaned over Irons and looked at him with anger in his eyes. "Did you think I wouldn't know? You trained me better than that. I could always tell when I was being followed. I led your man on a wild goose chase and cornered him in an alley. You should've seen it. He begged for his life!" Laughter filled the air again. "I broke his scrawny neck with my fingers!! Did you actually think that he'd kill me?!" Big's face looked hurt, "You hurt me, Irons. I had always thought that you liked me. I had always liked you." Irons wished that he could talk. He could talk his way out of this situation, but he couldn't now. "I only came back to help you kill this, Constance, so that you would maybe take me back as your bodyguard. But then as I entered the room, there was that Nottingham guy!! Trying to kill you. I thought for sure if I saved you that you would take me back, but NO!!" His voice shook the room. "You kept him. A man that wanted you dead, you kept as your bodyguard. So, I decided if I couldn't have you that no one could. You're going to die Irons. A very painful death. But first I have to get Nottingham and Constance here, so that they can go too." Big pulled the Witchblade out of his jacket. Irons felt his stomach churn. Big had attacked Sara! Did he kill her? Irons breathing became heavier as he began to panic. "Oh, so you recognize this bracelet. Looks different from the one Dominique wore, but of course, you taught me that it takes different forms for each blade wielder." He studied it closely let the cool metal touch his face. "I can still feel its power." He lifted his finger-less hand and stared at it. "You did this to me, not the Witchblade. The Witchblade loves me." He caressed his neck and cheek with the bracelet. "I'm going to use it to lure them to a warehouse tonight. It's actually a very good plan. Quite ingenious, but then again you probably wouldn't think so. You never thought that I was very smart. Well, I'm smarter than you think!" He got up out of his chair and kicked Irons. The pain shot through Irons body as he rolled across the room. Big walked over to Irons body and picked him up by the collar and raised him up so he could look him in the eyes, "There's only one more part of my plan that needs to be done. That's why I'm here, because it involves you." Big dropped irons to the floor still holding his collar and drug him across the floor as he started to walk out of the room. Big kept talking, "I need you to show me how to make the Witchblade make a dream that they will all see." Big stopped and looked at Irons again, "I know what you're thinking, no one can be hurt by their dreams. Well that's why I stole the Witchblade, because with its help we'll make the dream REAL!" Big dropped Irons again and walked out the door, "Lets get started shall we." Big walked down the hall and disappeared around the corner.

Sara had finished eating her all-egg breakfast and was leaning against the brick wall watching the man. He moved towards her with a blanket. "Here, I could tell that you were cold. You need to rest, you might have a concussion." 

Sara grabbed his arm, "Who are you?" 

He looked at her calmly and released her grip from his arm. "I'll tell you all in due time." She tried to move and got dizzy. She surrendered to the wall again, closing her eyes. A vision swept over her...

She was standing in a dark room mirrors surrounded her. She was wearing the Witchblade the blade was drawn. She felt danger all around her. The room flashed with an eerie light. Sara saw a figure moving in front of her. FLASH! The figure moved closer. Sara felt fear welling up inside of her. She moved slowly forward to meet her incoming foe. FLASH! The figure was right in front of her. FLASH! Sara stepped backwards when she saw who it was. FLASH! Ian stood in front of her anger filled his face. He was dressed in full armor, sword drawn! He saw her! FLASH! He charged her! She charged him. FLASH! Her blade pierced his images. CRASH! The mirror shattered. It had been a reflection! She felt cold metal pass through her body from behind. The metal left her as she turned around holding her dripping wound. FLASH! Ian stood before her in warrior stance. He glared at her hatred filled his face. She felt herself dying as she fell to the ground. He stood over her and lifted his sword. It came blazing towards her throat. FLASH!

Sara jerked upwards with a yell. The man ran to her side and tried to calm her. It had been a dream!! But why would Ian want to kill her? What did it all mean? She shook as the man helped her lean against the wall again. She was in shock. She couldn't get rid of the knot in her stomach. All she could say was, why, for the next half-hour.


	11. Sacrifice

Chapter 11: Sacrifice

Chapter 11: Sacrifice

Constance and Ian had been talking for hours the sun was rising. Constance was even able to make Ian laugh. They talked about some of the things that they had done together. Ian had laughed at the time she was helping him train. She was teaching him how to fight with a sword in the park on a rainy morning, and Ian was better than she thought that he would be, he thrusted his sword towards her, knocking her backwards into a mud puddle. She liked making Ian stern face smile. He had been through so much. She was happy to see that he was still able to have feelings, after all that Irons had put him through. Ian leaned against the back of the sofa and winced. His back was sore still. "What's wrong?" Constance leaned toward him with a worried look on her face. 

He sat up and erased the look of pain from his face. "Nothing." 

She didn't believe him, "Is it your back?" She reached for his back and he pulled away. Constance looked at him sternly. She tried to look again and Ian stood up to move further away from her. "You're face didn't look like it was nothing. I saw pain in your eyes."

He looked at her blankly, "Like I said, NOTHING!" His voice had taken on an angry tone. 

Constance looked at him with hurt in her eyes. "You're more connected to HIM than I thought." She stood up and moved closer to him he stepped away. "He made you wear it, didn't he?" Her eyes filled with tears. "You can never be your own man again, unless it's destroyed. You belong...t-to...HIM!!!" She brought a hand up to her mouth and began to weep, falling to her knees. Ian stood, silent, above her. No emotion was on his face. She saw a different man standing in front of her. A man who had been turned into a machine. She turned her eyes from him and lifted herself off of the ground. She felt his arms help her up and she pulled away. "You were probably sent here to kill me, weren't you?" She stepped away from him. 

Ian moved towards her, his face was still blank, "You don't understand." His voice was quiet and calm.

"What do I not understand?! You're his! I've lost the boy I knew. He's...he's gone!" She felt faint. "You belong to him..." She started to fall to the floor.

Ian reached out to her and grabbed her, "I don't BELONG to him." Ian pulled her up so she could see into his eyes, "I belong to the Witchblade." His voice had a sorrow in it. Constance saw who he had become then. He wasn't her little boy, but his true self, a good man, was inside of his assassin exterior. 

She wrapped her arms around him, "I understand...now." He didn't hold her back. She released him and stepped away again. "Do you belong to HER too?" Her eyes seemed to drill into his very soul. He looked at her blankly and shook his head. She stared at him and asked him a question that had been lingering in the back of her mind since she had come to the city and met Sara, "Are you in love with her?" Her tenderly looked into his.

He turned away and walked to Sara's closet to retrieve his coat. Constance didn't follow him. He turned slowly towards her while putting his coat on, "I don't know what love is, truthfully." He could tell that she knew he was lying. Truthfully he did know that what he felt for her and for Sara were two different thing, yet the same. It was a new sensation for him, he believed it to be love, but he was not sure.

He walked past Constance and towards the window, "Where are you going?" She followed him quickly over to the window.

He turned grabbing her and pulling her close to his giant frame, "To find Sara. That's what I came to do in the first place." He stroked her face with his and nuzzled her neck like a child. "Goodbye...mother." He was gone before she could even answer him. She leaned out of the window and watched his shadow run down the alley. 

Constance knew what she needed to do now. She must face Irons alone. She calmly walked over and picked up her coat. She turned off Sara's lights and locked her door. She knew what she was about to do would probably cost her life, but she knew that it had to be done. She would confront Irons; hopefully somehow she still knew how to fight well enough to defeat him. She needed the Witchblade, if she had that she could conquer him for sure, but Sara had it. The Witchblade would come to her if Sara were not anywhere near it; it had always liked Constance. She pulled her coat sleeve up and looked at her scar. It would be painful, no doubt. She sighed as she walked out of Sara's building and hailed a cab, "Vorshlag Industries, please." The taxi driver nodded and they were speeding down the road. She leaned back against the seat closing her eyes. She concentrated on the Witchblade and felt some of the power it had left with her flow through her body. She let it take her; she belonged to the Witchblade as well. Everyone who wore it belonged to it in some way, even Irons. Every night Constance relived her rape at Irons hands, that was one of her "gifts" the Witchblade had left her, yet in some ways she loved it, like a drug addict loves their drug. She saw visions of past wielders fill her mind, she saw Ian, Sara, and even Irons, and then a large image of a man flew through her mind as well. She opened her eyes when the man passed in front of her again; the taxi had pulled up to the building. She paid the taxi driver and exited the vehicle. She looked up at the large building; her fate lied in there. She knew now that this was her destiny. A peace came over her as she walked to the doors they slide open. She felt driven by some unknown force as she entered the elevator. Pushing the button for the top floor, she let the energy of the Witchblade flow over her again. It was making her stronger. She prepared to fight, the elevator *dinged* when she reached the hundredth floor. She felt one tear slide down her cheek, "For you, Ian." The door slid slowly open. 

Ian stood in front of the old abandoned subway entrance. Sara had been here; he could feel it. He moved past the subway and headed towards the nearest alley. His heart raced as he neared the wall of the alley. She was in here somewhere, but where? He couldn't see anything but brick wall. Wait, he noticed a difference in the brick pattern about three feet by two feet. He examined it carefully and saw an almost invisible crack that went around the pattern. "Sara?" He yelled at the wall.

Sara jumped at the sound of Ian voice. She had been very drowsy since her vision. She looked around for the man that had helped her, he was gone. She heard her name shouted again. What do I do? Part of her was happy to hear his voice, the other part was afraid because of the dream she had had. Her head whipped around at the movement of the brick door, light started to seep into the dimly lit room. She dragged herself over the farthest corner of the small room. Fingers bent around the corners of the door, gloved fingers. She was prepared to fight, knowing too well that she was too injured to fight. The door slid slowly open. She squinted as the light of early morning hit her eyes. Ian's head appeared in the small opening, then his whole form. Sara huddled in the corner. "Stay away from me!" She yelled at him as he approached her. He gently picked her up and walked out into the alley. Sara couldn't struggle, she felt too weak. Ian sat her on an old trash can. His eyes wore the look of worry, but it was quickly erased from his face. "How...how did you find me?" Her voice sounded foreign to her.

He looked into her eyes, "You have a concussion and broken ribs." He was gently pressing his hands against her ribcage. She pulled his hands off of her. He then noticed the missing jewelry. He grabbed her wrist and looked at her intensely, "Where is it?" 

"Some large man attacked me last night, he pinned me down. He was way too strong for me, the Witchblade wouldn't protect me." Her voice was bitter.

Ian face filled with anger, "Was the man's name Mr. Big?"

Sara raised her eyebrow, "He didn't ever say his name, but he sure was big." Ian picked Sara up and carried her out of the alley. "Where are you taking me?" Ian said nothing. She pushed against him trying to make him put her down, but it was impossible, she was too weak. She surrendered herself into his strong arms. 

He felt her relax and held her closer to his body. She was so warm. Still looking ahead, he walked down the street in the direction of her apartment, "I'm taking you to your apartment." He spoke softly, Sara could barely hear his words, "Then I'm going to go kill Mr. Big." 

Sara found herself forgetting about her nightmare, she felt safe with him. She looked up at his stern face, "Who is this Mr. Big?" 

"An old bodyguard of Irons'. He wants me dead." Ian spoke the word, dead, like it meant nothing to him, "I don't know why he took the Witchblade from you, but I intend on finding out." Sara pulled herself closer to him as they continued down the street. She couldn't imagine Ian harming her in any way, but her dream still haunted her. She wouldn't let it slip completely from her memory.

As they neared her apartment, Ian put her down and helped her up her stairs. She could feel some of her strength coming back. As she opened her door, she felt a strange pain rush over her entire body, "Ahh, what is that?" She held her head. Ian groaned behind her. She turned around; he was leaning against the wall holding his head too. He started to slide to the floor; she grabbed him and held him up while supporting herself. Then as soon as it had swept over then it was gone. She looked at Ian; he looked like he had been beaten, from the inside out. "Was that the Witchblade trying to tell us something?" She looked up into his eyes. He pulled away and walked into her apartment, he searched every room and walked back into her living room, where Sara had sat while watching him search. His eyes were glassed over. "What's wrong?"

He stood in the middle of the room. He raised his drooping head slowly to look at her, "C-Constance..."

"What about her?" Sara was completely confused.

"She's..." His voice cracked. "Gone."

"You mean she's not here at my apartment anymore? That doesn't mean anything, she could be out to lunch or..."

Ian cut her off, "NO!" Sara froze, his whole demeanor had changed, "She's dying!!"


	12. Smoke and Mirrors

Chapter 12: Smoke and Mirrors

Chapter 12: Smoke and Mirrors

The elevator doors stood open in front of Constance. She stepped off and the door closed silently behind her. She was standing in Irons' dark office. The curtain were drawn, no light was being let into the room. No one home. Her footsteps echoed as she walked across the room. She could sense the Witchblade's presence, was Sara here? Constance turned towards a long hallway that stretched away from Irons' office. The end of the hallway was dimly lit, someone was there or they had been there recently. The office looked as though there had been a struggle. "Doesn't look good..." she whispered. The Witchblade beckoned to her as she walked down the hall. The temperature dropped as she neared the end of the hallway. She could hear a deep voice of a man talking. Then came Irons voice. Constance drew closer to a large metal door and leaned against it to listen. She could feel cold air coming out from under the door. The air froze her toes and ankles as it slowly crept up her body. Why was it so cold in there? She heard the deep voiced man talk again and she listened intently.

"There, that's perfect."

"It's feel like the arctic in here," came Irons response.

"It has to be that cold in order for the dream to work. Their bodies have to be motionless. The have to be put into a temporary coma." The man's voice rumbled.

"What makes you think that this will even work?" She could tell that Irons was angry.

"It will work, because the Witchblade wants it to work. It's my destiny to kill you and the others. By tonight you and all the others will be dead. You will kill each other. I won't have to lift a finger. Although I do like killing people." The man's voice was so calm. Kill Irons? She couldn't believe what she was hearing. What OTHERS? Then the reality of her vision came flashing before her; she had seen everyone, Sara, Ian, and Irons, then a strange man. Maybe the man she heard in the other room was that man. She leaned against the door again. The speaking had stopped. She heard nothing. Where did they go? Just as she started to move away from the door it swung open sending her sprawling on the floor. Her head fell in-between two large feet. She jumped to her feet trying to recover and fight, only to be lifted off the ground by two large hands. She kicked his torso and OTHER areas over and over. He didn't budge. He shook her violently and surrendering she stopped attacking and looked him directly in the eyes. 

His dark eyes glared back at her. "So, we finally meet, Constance." She didn't know how he knew her name, but she calmed herself. She could feel the Witchblade calling to her still; it was close by, if she could only find it. "So pretty." His eyes undressed her. She winced as he scanned her body. "Too bad you have to die." His hand went up to her neck; it wrapped completely around it. He held her like that for a moment, then released her neck, "No, this has to be done right." He tied her up next to Irons and walked across the room. 

Irons was tied in a large chair, he looked very vulnerable. Constance caught his eyes with hers and his look of anger changed into hope. "You can save me, you can save both of us. Find the Witchblade." His whispering sounded like a snake and Constance turned away from him.

"Why would I want to save you?" She kept her eyes facing towards the large man that stood across the room. "Save yourself." With these words she turned to look him in the eyes again, her eyes burned into him, and he turned away defeated.

The man walked back across the room holding a shiny silver bullet and a gun. "This is your destiny, to die by the Witchblade." He held up the bullet and placed it into the gun. "This bullet was made from a piece of the Witchblade, Irons had it specially mad for you." Constance knew that Irons wanted her dead. The big man turned towards Irons, "See, I'm following your orders, I was always better than Nottingham." He pointed the gun at Constance's head; then he put it into a holster. "But...this bullet is not only going to kill her, it's going to kill Nottingham as well." Constance filled with dread, he was going to try to kill Ian! The man walked heavily across the room. A shiny bracelet fell from his pocket, the Witchblade! He didn't even notice that it had fallen out. He sat down in a large chair and closed his eyes. Now was her chance!! She called to the Witchblade softly. It glowed at her, hissing in recognition. She closed her eyes, COME...it shook on the ground and slid a little towards her. She looked at it again and closed her eyes, COME...it moved closer. "COME TO ME!!!" The big man jumped out of his seat and ran towards her. The Witchblade flew into the air, changing into the gauntlet and blade. It cut Constance's bonds. She ran across the room away from the man, the gauntlet followed her. She reached her hand out and intercepted the Witchblade. The room changed as the energy flowed through her body, "What's going on?" She backed against a large bookcase that stood behind her. The room had suddenly become very black; it glowed in the light of several torches that rested in sconces on the walls. It looked like a dream. Mirrors surrounded her, she watched the large man move in front of her, suddenly he was all around her, or at least his reflection was. She turned round and round trying to decide which enemy to attack. The Witchblade's tip started to glow as she turned behind her and looked at the man's face. 

He sneered at her and moved towards her, "This is my dream. You made it happen too soon, I wanted Nottingham to be here, but no you had to be impatient."

She thrusted the blade into his stomach. He keeled over, falling to his knees. 

He rose to his feet; the wound disappeared, "Like I said, this is my dream. I'm in control, nothing can hurt me." Thunderous laughter filled the room as he vanished. She looked all around; he was nowhere to be found. She hadn't prepared herself for anything like this. She could fight anywhere, but in a dream, she had no control. She kneeled in the middle of the dark room...all she could do was wait.

Mr. Big had opened. Irons watched him walk slowly over to his gun and load normal bullets. Constance's body lay against the bookcase. Her eyes were closed. "Is...she..?" 

Big walked over to Irons and followed his eyes to the woman. "She's in a coma. Our idea worked."

"Why am I not in the dream?" Irons coulds tell that Constance's eyes were moving below her eyelids.

"The Witchblade didn't choose you." He walked over to Constance and pointed his gun at her belly.

"She's wearing the Witchblade, you can't hurt her." Irons' voice was cold and stinging.

"Not in reality." Mr. Big closed his eyes again.

Constance lifted her head as he reappeared in front of her. He was holding a gun. The mirrors became stone walls and closed in around her. She stood up silently and look him directly in the eyes. She knew what was coming, the Witchblade might help her and it might not. He pointed his gun at her, "This is to get HIM here. Then I finish you." Everything went into slow motion as the bullet left the gun. Smoke drifted from the bullet as it flew across the room. The bullet drilled into her stomach it burned her insides. She fell backwards as time sped up again. Blood started seeping from her wound. She could feel herself being drained of her life. The Witchblade rest on her wrist, still glowing and hissing. Its blade vanished, but the gauntlet remained. The man disappeared again. She lay in the dark shivering. "Ian..." His name warmed her as tears rolled down her cheeks, "I'm sorry."

Irons watched Constance body shake, like she had been shot. Big opened his eyes with a sinister smile on his face. "Now, he'll come." 

Irons closed his eyes. "Did you kill her?" 

"Of course not, I just made her think that she's going to die. The Witchblade will call Nottingham here." He walked over to Irons, "You wanted me to kill her using the special bullet, and I'm going to. As soon as Nottingham arrives he'll step into the dream. He'll be powerless." He patted Irons' cheek, "Don't be so worried." He smiled and walked over to the large chair to sit and wait.


	13. Not Strong Enough

Chapter 13: Not Strong Enough

Chapter 13: Not Strong Enough

Ian walked quickly towards Sara's door. "I have to go." 

Sara limped after him, "Where?.........Where are you going?" 

Ian turned an looked at Sara, "To Irons. Constance is there." He turned away and ran out the door. 

Sara reached the door and collapsed, her head was spinning and ribs were screaming at her in pain. She knew that she would not be able to keep up. She pulled herself up, leaning against the doorframe. She bit her lip. The pain was intense. Never the less she knew that she needed to follow Ian, he would need help where the Witchblade was concerned. It belonged to her still, and she knew that if she could get her hands on it then she might be able to save Constance. She grabbed her motorcycle helmet and jacket. Minutes later a motorcycle peeled out of the parking garage and down the street towards Vorchlag Industries.

The sun was high in the sky when Ian reached his "employer's" tall building. He walked slowly towards the busy entrance and decided that entering the secret way would be best. He walked around to the back of the building and opened a grate that was in the building's wall. His tall body disappeared into the dark hole.

Constance lay in the dark room. The torches were dimming, or was it her vision that was dimming. The Witchblade glowed on her wrist, it felt heavier than usual, almost as if it was holding her down and crushing her. She closed her eyes to wait for oblivion to overtake her.

Irons eyed his attacker. Big was not a man to be messed with he knew that now. Big had saved Irons once when he was visiting Japan. Someone wanted Irons dead (someone always wanted Irons dead...). They planned his assassination to happen during a Sumo wrestling match. Big had saved him by jumping in front of Irons and taking the bullet. Irons had never understood how Big had known, and why he had saved him, yet he was in the market for a new bodyguard and Big was loyal. Big was training in the art of Sumo Wrestling. His fellow wrestlers had named him Tsuyoi San, which roughly translated meant Mr. Powerful, but he always preferred Mr. Big. His real name was Francis Goop, another reason why he preferred Mr. Big. Irons never had to punish Big or use force to make him obey, as he did Ian. Big was more like a robot, a killing machine, than a man. Now, he seemed even more heartless and cruel. Irons liked men who were like Big, as long as they were on his side, which was not the case this time.

Big was watching Constance with a cool smile, sweat was dripping down her brow as fever overtook her and ravaged her body. "Looks like you plan is not going to work after all, Big." Irons voice cut through the silence of the room. "She's dying and Ian is not here yet." Big tensed and glared at Irons. Irons felt in control again when he saw Big's reaction to his comment. It was only a matter of time and Big would snap Irons knew that and was patiently waiting. 

Big walked over to Constance and, removing a handkerchief from his breast pocket, dabbed her brow. "I can pull her out of the dream whenever I want to and she will live. It is all in her mind." He stood up at the sound of the door opening, "Hello, Nottingham. You're just in time."

Nottingham stood at the door, sword drawn. He moved quickly towards Big in a death strike. Big turned towards him and disappeared. Irons watched Nottingham fall to the floor, the dream had taken him. Big hovered over Ian's body, "You're in my world now."

Ian was surrounded by the torchlights in the room. It spun around him making him dizzy. He did not know where he was, was he dead? The room filled with mirrors, then flashed back and forth between the torchlight room and the menacing mirrors. The flashing caused Ian to go into spasms as he fell to the floor. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the light. He had to gain control. As suddenly as the spasms started they stopped. He pushed himself off the floor. His body was covered in his armor; his sword was in his hand. Someone was playing with him. Evil laughter echoed around him. "Welcome, Ian Nottingham." The voice was Big's. Ian made ready for battle, "Do you like my little game?" Big appeared in front Ian. Ian just glared at the large man and moved towards him. Big folded his arms, "I wouldn't do that if I were you, you'll kill her." He moved to the side allowing Ian to see Constance. She was lying on the ground, very still.

"What do you want?" Ian kept the point of his sword trained on Big. 

Big laughed, "To kill you." He moved back in front of Constance. He opened his arms wide, "Take your best shot." Ian ran towards him, his sword plunged into Big's chest. Big kept laughing a sinister laugh. Ian pulled his sword back; his eyes grew very wide as Big's wound sealed shut. "You see, you can't kill me. Not in MY world, in MY dream! You se..." Ian sword stopped Big's next words as it sliced through Big's neck, lopping off Big's head. Big's body fell on the ground as his head rolled across the room, blood draining from both. 

Ian ran over to Constance. Kneeling next to her, he lifted her limp body and held her. Her eyes fluttered opened. "Ian...?" His surprise showed on his face, he pulled her closer. She let him hold her as tears streamed down her face. She closed her eyes, leaning on his shoulder. His arms wrapped completely around her as he started to lift her off the ground. She opened her eyes and gasped. "Ian...!" She felt his body stiffen, "Behind you!!" 

Ian swung around placing Constance behind him. What he saw made his hair stand up on his neck. Big's body stood in front of him holding his head. The head spoke, "Like I said, you can't kill me." He lifted his head and placed it back in place. The head and body fused together. It was like something out of a horror flick. Constance screamed and grasped Ian tighter. Ian's sword was too far away to grab. Big laughed at them, "End game. Now, you both die." He vanished.

Irons watched Big's eyes open once more. He walked over to Ian and dragged his unconscious body over to Constance. He laid her on top of Ian. Big pulled the bullet from his pocket and loaded it into his gun. He pointed it at both of them, "Two in one shot." The gun went off, smoke billowing from its muzzle.


	14. A Shot In The Dark

Chapter 14: A Shot In The Dark

Chapter 14: A Shot In The Dark

Sara's motorcycle screeched to a halt outside of the Vorchlag building. Dark clouds were filling the sky. Sara quickly dismounted and limped towards the large ominous building. 

"Hey, Pez...slow down." The familiar voice made Sara stop and turned towards it. Danny stared back at her as a few raindrops began to fall.

"Not now." Sara turned again, but Danny reappeared in front of her. "This had better be important." She sighed.

"Pez...you don't know what you're walking into." His voice carried concern. Sara gave him a don't-you-think-I-know look and waited to hear more. "I can't tell you much, but this...Remember that everything is not what it appears to be. Remember who you can trust, this is the key." Danny vanished right before her eyes.

"Darn riddles!!" She muttered. She pulled her gun and continued limping towards the building. 

Sara was out of breath. It had taken her longer than she had expected to make it up to Irons' office. The receptionist wasn't even at the desk, in fact everyone Sara usually saw weren't in the building. The office was dark around her. She breathed in deeply as she made her way down the dimly lit hall that branched off of Irons' office. Her stomach churned as she neared a large door. She heard voices; one was Irons and the other... She tasted bile in her mouth. The other voice was that of the man whom Ian had called "Mr. Big". She crept closer to the door, listening intently. Her hand went to the doorknob and she opened the door just enough to take in what she would be up against. The big man was pointing a shiny gun at two bodies, Sara held in a small scream when she realized who they were. Ian and Constance!! The big man's finger was on the trigger, "Two in one shot." Hearing this Sara leapt from her hiding place and fired her gun. The bullet flew through the air drilling into the man's back. His gun went off as soon as the bullet hit him, luckily Sara's shot threw off his aim. His bullet smacked into Constance's shoulder.

Constance's body twinged in pain. This shot was the last draw for her body. She fell against Ian. He tried to steady her, lifting her face. Her eyes, filled with pain, looked lovingly at him, "Goodbye...my son." The pain took over her body and she fell limp in his arms. 

Ian pulled her close to his body, cradling her as he rocked her. "No..." His crackled with emotion as tears streamed down his face. "No...no no no..." He mumbled over and over as he dropped to his knees, placing her motionless body on the floor. He clenched his fists. His body tensed up as he looked at her. The torchlight flickered around him. Anger was building. "NOOOOOOOO!!!" The torches blew out as the surrounding mirrors shattered.

Sara fired again; sending this shot into the man's back closer to his heart. He turned and ran towards her. His eyes looked as though fire was burning within. He looked like a charging bull. Sara knew she wouldn't have a chance if he got his hands on her. She jumped out of the way right as his hands reached for her neck. She looked up from where she had fallen to see Irons looking down at her. "Sara, the Witchblade. It's on Constance." He looked behind Sara with fear in his eyes. Sara jumped to her feet and out of the way, just as Big grabbed at her again. Big's large body sent him hurling into and on top of Irons. Irons groaned and then blacked out. 

Sara ran over to Constance, her ribs were aching and screaming at her to stand still, but she kept moving. Sara saw the gauntlet on Constance's arm. Sara looked behind herself to see where her attacker was. He was struggling to get to his feet. Blood oozed from the two wounds in his back. Sara could tell that he was slowing. Sara turned back to the Constance and stroked the Witchblade, talking softly to it. "I'm here, come to me. I am the true wielder." The Witchblade slipped off of Constance's arm and fell silently to the floor. 

Darkness surrounded Ian as he held onto his "mother's" cold hands. He felt them move in his hands, she was slowly slipping from him. He desperately tried to hold onto her but she slipped away from him into the blackness.

Sara reached for the Witchblade and placed it on her wrist. It breathed softly in contentment. She could tell that it knew who she was. Sara stood to her feet, watching Big as he fell back to his knees. The bullets were finally taking affect. Sara heard a noise from behind her.

"S...Sara..." The voice was Constance's. Sara turned quickly and knelt by her friend's side. Constance smiled up at her. "You came. The Witchblade called you." Constance body shook with chills.

Sara took off her jacket and laid it over Constance. "I thought you were dead." She smiled tenderly, "What's going on here?" Sara kept her eye on Big, making sure she was still safe.

"Big made a dream world that he could control. It sucked me in as soon as I put the Witchblade on. Then it got Ian. He's still in there. Please save him! He thinks I'm dead." Constance shook with more chills. Sara's face became very worried. Constance only smiled, "I'll be all right. It doesn't look like Big is going anywhere for awhile." They looked over to see Big lying on the ground unable to move and his life seeped from the two wounds.

Sara looked at the Witchblade. "I don't know how to go into Big's dream." Her voice was frantic. "Please... help me." 

"Trust in the blade, it will show you the way." Constance voice became distant as Sara drifted into a coma. He body fell into Constance's lap. She stroked Sara's hair. "I just hope that you can find a way out."

Sara found herself in a very dark room. She was dressed in full armor; the Witchblade sword was drawn. Blown out torches surrounded her. Wind blew around her as great mirrors grew out of the floor. This place looked like more of a Nightmare than a dream. She walked slowly to the center of the room, "Ian!?" She called his name, "Ian are you here?" Her voice echoed around the room. A cold breeze blew past her face as lightning started flashing around her.

Constance watched Sara's eyes move beneath her thick eyelashes. She lifted her eyes and saw Big struggling to breathe. His voice muttered in his labored breaths, "He will not know her name, confusion shall overtake the knights, a battle will kill and maim, their blood will spill in the fight ..." 

The chanting made Constance's skin crawl. She kept stroking Sara's hair as she looked over at Ian, "Tell him, Sara. Help him see the truth."

Sara kept calling Ian's name. She was starting to worry. The flashing of the lightning lit the room for only split seconds. Chills blew over Sara's body. FLASH! Smoke started to fill the room. FLASH! Sara heart began to beat faster as images of her recent nightmare came back to her. FLASH! She could see a man moving towards her in full armor, sword drawn. Sara moved towards him. FLASH! His face appeared. IAN!! FLASH! His face was filled with hate, anger... FLASH! Death was in his eyes. FLASH! His sword flew towards her. FLASH!


	15. True Power, True Love

Chapter 15: True Power, True Love

Chapter 15: True Power, True Love

The Witchblade flashed visions of Sara's dream. She remembered the illusion that the mirror had made in her dream and turned away from Ian's image. The real Ian was now truly charging her. Sara reacted defensively parrying his attack. Their swords clashed causing a great boom of thunder and lightning to rumble the room. He gave a mighty war cry and struck at her again. "Ian! It's me, Sara!" The Witchblade knew Ian's every move, as it met his sword's swipes. Sara couldn't believe the violence he was showing. His face was filled with a hatred that she had never seen. What had come over him? Danny's words drifted into her mind. He had told her to remember whom she could trust. She thought that she could trust Ian, but he was trying to kill her. She needed to make him see the truth, as Constance had told her. The words echoed through her mind. She tried to reach for him, hoping that her touch would make him remember, but she had to withdraw her hand when he tried to take it off with his sword. The Witchblade hissed and breathed. It spoke to Sara; deep down inside of her she knew what she must do. The thunder and lightning continued with every strike and crash of their swords. His eyes burned at her, they looked empty as if in a trance. He yelled as his sword fell upon Sara's arm, cutting it deeply. She twinged in pain. The fight continued. 

Constance gasped as she watched cuts and gashes appear on Sara and Ian from their fight. The dream was becoming reality. Some how Big had changed it with his spell. Constance cursed at his now limp form. Irons still squirmed underneath Big's large body. Constance looked down at Sara and then over to her son, "Sara, be strong. He loves you."

Sara dodged another thrust of Ian's sword. The Witchblade hissed at her again, beckoning her to do what she knew she needed to do. Sara wanted to wait until the time was right. She needed to tell him the truth. The truth of how she really felt about him. He was her life, her breath, her very being. He had always been with her some how. She needed to touch him, but she could not get close enough. Sara, then, made a fateful choice. Ian thrust again, but instead of Sara dodging this time, she dropped her guard. The Witchblade turned into the bracelet as Ian's sword pierced Sara's stomach. She felt the cool metal burn her as it drove deeper. Sara reached out for him. She pulled his blade into her, up to the hilt. Ian's eyes grew wide. He was close enough to hold. Sara wrapped her arms around him, biting back the pain. His body trembled; his hand still held the sword. Her blood was spilling from her. 

A large bloody hole appeared in Sara's stomach and Constance began to weep. She looked over at Ian, "Why?" Her eyes fell upon Sara's pale face, "No, don't die." Her tears fell into the wound.

Sara's head rested in the curve of Ian's strong neck. "It's over…" Her voice was a whisper. She slowly lifted her head to look into his eyes. "I don't care if I die now." The emptiness that was in his eyes began to be filled once more. She felt his hands slip from the hilt of his sword. Sara continued with great pain, "I'm not afraid of dying. Not as long as you are with me…" Ian's eyes became blurred with tears. She brought her hand up to his cheek. Their eyes locked. Sara could see the real man return as she started to drop to the floor. His lips quivered; he wrapped his arms around her, supporting her dying body. Sara caught his mouth with her own. Warmth flooded over both of them. Pulling away, Sara held his face with both of her hands. "I love you…" Her body shook in convulsions as her breath slowed. 

Ian lowered her to the ground, gently pulling the sword from her strong belly. Her convulsions slowed and stopped. He leaned over her, cradling her in his arms. "Sara, no." He whispered, "Don't leave me." She smiled softly up at him. Her hand brushed his hair out of his eyes and rested on the side of his face. He brought up a large hand to cover hers. His insides churned as he watched the life fade from her eyes. Her hand became limp in his. He choked back the tears that were flooding his eyes. "No…" His voice was barely audible. Ian pulled her close to his body. "You can't die. I…" He looked at the sword that lay on the stone, covered with her blood. He grabbed it and placed the point to his chest, his tears fell on the blade and mixed with her blood. "I love you." He plunged the blade through his heart. Lightning flashed as his body fell limply on top of hers; their blood mixed and flowed across the floor. 

Constance had seen it all. She screamed silently inside as she watched the wound appear in Ian's chest. He had taken his life for her. "No!" She wept.

Irons twisted his neck to see Constance. "What happened?" 

She looked at him, tears streaking her face. "They're dead. They're both dead." Her words made her weep even more.

Irons covered his face with his hands. "No." His voice was bitter, defeated. "There must be something that you can do. I must not lose them!" His voice was commanding.

"This has nothing to do with you." She grumbled low in her throat. "You should have died, not them."

He only stared blankly back at her. He continued to try to pry himself out from underneath Big's still form. He mumbled under his breath, "You always were a failure, even as a mother."

Constance looked at him and felt anger rise inside of her. She could do something. Something that would prove that she was not a failure. She stared at the Witchblade. It was still glowing a burning red. Her finger ran over the beautiful red stone. "She's the one you've been waiting for. Do not forsake her." Her words changed from gentle and kind and became harsher. "He has always remained true. They are the chosen ones can't you see!" The Witchblade hissed and glowed, swirling around and around. A great wind began to blow around the room causing papers to fly everywhere. "Prove to me your power!" Lightning flashed and thunder shook Irons' huge office. "A life for a life!" Power dripped from her every word. Her voice was as loud as the thunder. "I am yours!" Tears fell from her eyes as her hair blew violently. "TAKE ME!"

In the dream the wind became violent as well. It swirled around the two silent warriors picking them up off the stone ground. Their hair whipped around their faces. The wind carried them around the room spinning them, as it would carry leaves. Light began illuminating from their bodies, shooting beams of light around the room. Heat radiated from them. Their armor exploded from them disappearing into the brilliant light. The light bathed their wounds searing them shut. It fell upon them like silk caresses the skin. They floated to the ground now in each other's embrace. Sara and Ian lay upon the ground, the light covered them. They were reborn.

The room had become quiet. Irons lay still. He had a perplexed and scared look on his face. He saw Constance control the Witchblade as no other woman ever had. It had obeyed her completely. "A life for a life." He whispered and blacked out.

Constance felt her body become weak when Sara and Ian's wounds started fade. A small smile spread across her face. "Thank you." She looked at the Witchblade. It glowed back at her and breathed softly. Constance breathed with the Witchblade and drifted into unconsciousness.


	16. Rude Awakening

Chapter 16: Rude Awakening

Chapter 16: Rude Awakening

When Irons awoke he was in his bed at his huge estate. His head pounded; it felt like it was going to explode. He rubbed his hands through his hair and swung his feet over the side of the bed. "Maybe it was all a nightmare." He mumbled about the recent happenings. He slipped his pale feet into his slippers and walked slowly over to his red, silk robe pulling it on. He loved the caress of silk on his body. He went over his agenda in his head as he walked out into the hall and down towards his kitchen. "Ian?" He beckoned. When he reached the kitchen, he was shocked to find it empty. The room was completely bare. "What is going on here?" His voice was irritated. "Ian! Come here!" He paced into the next room to find it empty as well. All his priceless treasure, all gone. Anger began rising inside of him, "Ian, you have got some explaining to do!" He walked through his house. Each room was just as empty as the last and Ian still had not answered him. He stared down his hall of Blade Wielders. All the paintings were gone as well. The two mirrors remained. Irons looked at them. A million images of him glared back at him. "Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!" He yelled, smashing his fist into one of the mirrors shattering it. Blood dripped from his knuckles. He looked at the blood and smirked. He had always liked the sight of blood. It made him know that he was alive. He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief and instead found a piece of paper. He unfolded it carefully. It was written on his stationary. The handwriting caught his eye, Constance. Bile rose in his throat as he read her beautiful letters.

***

__

Kenneth,

I will never forget the times that we had. They did not all consist of nightmares. Yet, I will never forget the cruelty you have shown during your long life, not only to I but also to Ian, Sara, and many others. Thus, I leave you as you have left so many others. Alone. Not alone from people, but alone from your many precious treasures. You don't deserve their company. I am going away. Far away where you will never find me. It is not impossible to escape you, Kenneth. The Witchblade, in a final act, saved my very soul. It does not belong to you anymore. Nothing I own or have owned belongs to you. I hope that when you are on your deathbed you will remember what I have done to you. You may be able to save yourself yet.

Constance 

PS Start thinking about what you will tell the police and find a good lawyer. 

***

Irons tore the letter to shreds and threw it to the ground. He stomped into his bedroom and got dressed. She was going to pay for this.

Streams of soft morning light spilled into Sara's apartment. Her window stood open allowing a cool breeze to sweep around the room and across her queen-sized bed. Sara's hair fell gently upon her face as the wind caressed her face. The sunlight hit her face and opened her eyes into slits. Half awake, she frowned and decided to turn away from the sunlight. She sighed sleepily and rolled over onto her side. She reached out unconsciously to grab a pillow and touched a head full of curly hair. Her hand retracted as if a snake had bitten her. Her eyes opened wide when she saw whom the curly hair belonged to. "What…" She whispered to herself while staring at the handsome assassin. He looked so peaceful lying in her bed. He was wearing a white T-shirt. Sara smiled, "Never seen you wear whit before." She reached a hand out and stroked his cheek. The corner of his mouth turned up into a small smile. He was dreaming. "Dreaming of me?" Sara whispered removing her hand from his face. The nightmarish occurrences that had happened all seemed like a dream now. She wondered if they had been a dream, all of it just an awful nightmare. Sara climbed out of bed to find herself in a white T-shirt like Nottingham. "Already dressing alike." She laughed. She couldn't remember how Ian had ended up in her bed. How close had they been? Instead of being upset, like she usually would have been, she felt safe. Somehow she knew that Ian being here with her was the right thing. Although, she was a little confused. Sara looked at the sleeping man again, and frowned. "I need coffee." She glanced over at her antique clock, 9:30! She was late for work. She ran over to her kitchen and started a pot of coffee. The coffee bubbled and popped in the old pot. Sara preferred using the old pot; it had belonged to her father. Sara had poured herself some Special K cereal and was sitting at her table when she heard the padding of bare feet coming from her bedroom. Sara held in laughter as Ian walked out, half asleep. His hair was sticking up and was falling in his face. His mouth was wide in a yawn. She smiled and scanned his tall form, in the white T-shirt and sweat shorts. "Good morning." 

Her voice caught him off guard. His head whipped up and he looked around the room disoriented. "S-Sara?" He looked down at what he was wearing and blushed. Sara motioned her thumb towards her closet and Ian walked slowly over to it and searched it's interior. All Sara could see was his two long legs, bare below the knees, sticking out of her closet. His head reappeared with a smile on it; his trenchcoat was in his hands. He put it on pulling it over his wide shoulders. 

He looked over at Sara to find a large smile on her face. She motioned for him to come to the table, "More comfortable?" He only smiled in response and seated himself across from her. He grabbed the box of Special K and started munching handfuls of the cereal. "Well," Sara cocked an eyebrow at him, "Make yourself at home."

He dropped his eyes, scanning the tabletop. "Sara?" He looked up at her with a confused look on his face, "Why am I here?" He dropped his eyes again, "What I mean is…"

"I know." Sara interrupted, "I'm confused too."

Irons had had to call a cab. All of his vehicles and servants were gone. The cab stopped in front of the NYPD station. He had had everything stolen from him. All he had left were is money that he had in the bank and his building. The cop at the front desk looked up, "Why, Mr. Irons, what brings you here?" He chuckled under his breath.

Irons winced and glared at the fat cop, "I am here to report a robbery." His voice was harsh and upset.

The cop smiled, "A man like you I would have expected to use the phone."

Irons gritted his teeth. "I would have if someone had not stolen it. In fact my whole estate was wiped clean. Everything is gone." Irons stared at the cop, "Well?"

"Shouldn't you also be reporting a murder, Mr. Irons?" 

Irons swung around to see Jake McCarty. "What are you talking about?"

Jake smiled, "Well, Mr. Irons, there was a man by the name of Francis Goop found shot to death in your office. Care to explain that?" Jake moved towards Irons, pulling handcuffs from his jacket pocket.

"I don not know any Francis Goop. You can not arrest me! I'm here to report a wrong that has been done to me!" Irons voice had become very loud catching everyone's attention in the room.

Jake kept moving towards him, "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can or will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney…"

Irons cut him off, "Oh, you bet I can afford an attorney. The best attorney money can buy! You have nothing on me."

Jake just looked at him and continued telling him his rights, walking him back towards the holding cells. 

Sara and Ian sat at the kitchen table in silence. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. Ian stared down at his folded hands, his brow furrowed. Sara just stared at Ian bowed head. They knew that what they had both accepted, as a nightmare had been real. Deep down inside they knew the truth. They had both confessed their true feeling for each other and had shown it. The visions flashed through their minds. The battle, the swords, the blood, death. It was all reality whether they wanted it to be or not. Ian had killed her, then taken his own life, yet he sat in Sara's kitchen eating her cereal. They were both breathing, alive. They were also very confused. Sara picked up the now empty box of cereal. Ian's eyes lifted from the table and followed her slender form with his eyes. She tossed the box into the trash and turned around leaning on her counter. Their eyes met and the silence continued. Sara sighed and pulled her eyes away from his and walked towards the table. She reached for the milk and felt Ian's hand stop her. He had never touched her with bare hands. When she thought about it he hadn't ever truly touched her. She turned towards him to see that he was standing, he had a serious look on his face. Sara's heart began to beat faster; the warmth of Ian's hand comforted her. Their eyes met again. Sara dropped her eyes this time. She caught herself looking at his white T-shirt. The cut of his muscles could be seen through the shirt. Sara ran her hands around his waist below his coat and Ian brought a hand to her chin and raised her head to meet his eyes again. Ian's lips touched hers in a virgin kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her closer. Their bodies were pressed together and Sara felt the Witchblade's warmth against her wrist. The kiss ended as pure as it had begun. Ian moved away and dropped his eyes, "I'm sorry, Lady Sara. I shouldn't have taken advantage of..." Sara opened her mouth to speak, when the phone rang causing them both to jump. Sara picked up the phone, "Hello?" Sara sat down. Ian did the same. "Yes…yes Jake I'll be there…okay…bye." Sara ran over to her bureau and pulled out a pair of jeans. 

Ian watched her grab her gun and badge from the drawer by the bed. She ran past Ian while hopping into her jeans. "Going to work?" She only looked at him and grabbed her jacket. The door slammed behind her. Ian stood still looking at the door. A small envelope flew away from the door on the wind the door had caused. Ian walked over to it and picked it up. Sara and Ian were written on it. It was Constance's handwriting. 


	17. The Decision of a Lifetime

Chapter 17: The Descision of a Lifetime

Chapter 17: The Decision of a Lifetime

Sara's motorcycle came to a screeching halt in front of the police station. What she had heard on the phone had shocked her. In fact, the whole morning had been a little shocking. The last thing that she could remember was dying. Awaking this morning was a big surprise to her. A lot of questions were flying through her mind. _Am I awake or asleep?_ She thought to herself and raised an eyebrow. It sure felt like a dream, first she awoke to a handsome man in her bed, whom she had kissed (who knows what else) and shared breakfast with like a normal human being, and now she was being called in to help out with the arrest of Kenneth Irons. The dream was getting better and better. She walked through the door and was met with the smiling face of her partner.

"We've got him, Pez! He's finally toast." His eyes were shining.

She chuckled and smiled, "So, how did you bag him?" She walked past Jake and into their office, tossing her feet up onto the desk.

Jake sat opposite her, "He came in to report that everything that he owned had been stolen I guess his body guard is missing." Jake saw Sara squirm. He cocked his head and kept talking, "Well, really late last night we got the biggest present from some anonymous "donor". It was a box full of evidence to bring Irons down. Pictures, files, witnesses…you name it. Plus, be found a dead body in his office. Someone named Francis Goop, AKA Mr. Big. All the evidence points to Irons as the murderer. So we booked him." Jake leaned back in his seat, proud smile across his face.

Sara dropped her feet from the desk. She became dizzy as images flashed through her mind. Time was slow, drifting. She saw Ian and herself lying beside each other in her bed, a blonde woman leaned over them, Constance! Sara snapped back to reality.

"You okay?" Jake was kneeling beside her.

"Yeah, I…uh…I have just had a rough morning."

"No coffee…huh?" He grinned, "I'll get ya some." Jake rushed out of the office and towards the coffee-pot.

Sara leaned in her hands. _How?_ She saw Constance standing over them. _How had she done it. I was dead. Irons._ She lifted her head, she knew where she could get the information that she needed. She headed towards the holding cells, it was not a dream anymore but reality. Constance had done something, something that had never been done before and Sara was going to find out everything.

Ian looked down at the familiar handwriting. The letters curved and twisted into beautifully shaped designs. He made his way to the couch and sat down, still looking at the letter. He wondered if he should open it now or wait for Sara to come home. His long finger slide over the seal, caressing its edge. He lifted the corner and slowly lifting and tugging the flap. The tear of paper made him even more eager to see what was inside. Once it was open, he felt guilty for not waiting for Sara, as if it had been a birthday present that had been hidden and opened before it was supposed to. He furrowed his brow and pulled the neat stationary out of the envelope. It was folded neatly in thirds. The lightweight paper felt so delicate in his hands as he unfolded it. Her handwriting curved and twisted over the paper's pale blue design. He began reading it intently: 

_My Dear Son and Friend,_

I know that as you awoke this morning you were probably confused and wondering what had occurred to change the terrible occurrences of last night. I hope that I might be able to explain to you in a way that you will understand. 

The Witchblade has truly chosen you, Sara, as its true wielder. When you died in the dream, Ian took his life. You were both dead and I wept. I begged the Witchblade to help me and to adhere to my wishes. It answered and breathed life into you both. I was able to stop time after that and take my revenge on Ken that way I had always wanted too. I had help though. The man that helped you Sara is my confidant and friend. He helped me take all that had been important to Ken. 

I brought you both to Sara's apartment and took my leave to receive my side of the deal I had made with the Witchblade. You see the deal did not come without a cost. I am aging rapidly. My youth that the Witchblade sealed has been lifted. I do not know how much longer I have. I am grateful for all that you have given to me. I love you Ian. I know that you hold a secret that you have not told, yet I hope that you will. (I have enclosed an address to where I will be). Sara, you have become my closest friend in more ways than one, I know that you have a secret as well, release it to fate. I leave you both with this, I wish that I could have had more time with both of you, yet my destiny has been decided. I hope that you both will see each other and others around you in a different light. Love is a precious thing.

Love Always, Constance

Ian dropped the letter on the couch, tears coming to his eyes. He searched the envelope; he pulled a small piece of paper out with an address written on it. He stuffed it into his pocket and rushed out of Sara's apartment and down the hall.

Sara walked slowly past all of the cells. She could not wait to see what Irons looked like behind bars. He sat on the cot staring, in deep thought, at the wall. "Hello, Irons." She couldn't help but smirk.

He turned his head and glared at her, "Enjoy this while you can, Sara. I won't be here for long. I have very powerful friends." He stood and moved over toward her.

Sara only lifted her eyebrow and placed her hand on her hip, "Seems to me that they've got more on you than they need to send you up the river for good." The Witchblade hissed, "But that isn't why I came to see you." He frowned and folded his hands behind his back. Sara continued, "I have a lot of questions that I am hoping that you can answer."

Irons smirked, "And what makes you think that I'm going to help you?"

"I'm betting that you have a few yourself, and you aren't going anywhere." She glared at him and brushed her hand through her hair. The Witchblade was glowing. Irons saw the Witchblade and became very quiet. "What happened last night?"

Irons started quivering, "I-It was terrible." His breathing became heavy, "Once you entered the dream everything went down hill. Big was dying and lying on top of me, trapping me below him. I could feel him burning with anger towards you, towards everyone. He spoke a spell in his dying breath. It was a curse, to confuse you and Ian, I guess." Irons began to sweat.

Sara's face softened, "Then what did you see?" She could tell that Irons was really upset.

Irons bit his lower lip and continued, "I watched you and Ian shaking and moving as if fighting. It ended violently, didn't it?" He looked Sara in the eyes.

A pain filled Sara's chest as a lump rose in her throat, "Yes, Ian killed me." She fidgeted with her hands, "That's all that I remember."

Irons' eyes widened, "I did see you die, but he died after you as if something had killed you both."

Sara looked down and cradled herself with her arms, "He died too?" She looked up again, "What did Constance do?"

Irons' face grew pale, "She called on the power of the Witchblade, it's full power. A storm filled the room, wind and lightning. She told the Witchblade to take her and bring you both back to life. The room settled and I blacked out." He turned away from Sara and sat down on the cot again, "Then I remember waking up in my bed with everything I owned taken from me. And now I'm being blamed for Big's murder." He turned his head towards Sara, "We both know who killed him." 

Sara met his gaze, "Yes, I will clear up who killed him, but the rest that they have got on you is still enough to put you away for life. Thank you for clarifying last night, good day Irons." She turned and walked slowly out of the holding area.

Ian was gathering all of his belongings from his small quarters. He knew what needed to be done. He could still feel Sara's lips pressed against his, so soft and warm. He closed his eyes and lived the scene over again. He wondered if what he was doing was the right thing. He picked up a small shoe-box and left Irons for good.

Sara met Jake in their office again. She knew that Irons was innocent of Big's murder, but deep down inside she didn't want to let him off the hook. He deserved it. Jake sat across form her waiting for her to say something. She cleared her throat, "I have something to tell you and I don't know how to explain what really happened but I'll try." She sighed and breathed in deeply, this was going to be hard for Jake to believe, but it was time for her to tell him EVERYTHING.


	18. The Truth Can Hurt

Chapter 18: The Truth Can Hurt

Chapter 18: The Truth Can Hurt

Jake sat intently awaiting Sara's "big" secret. Sara leaned back in her chair and touched her bracelet lightly. It breathed and Jake looked around the room for where the noise came from. He had heard it before, a breathy hiss. Sara lifted her wrist and pointed to the now swirling and glowing bracelet. "This is the Witchblade."

Jake's face contorted into a strange "what the" look, "The Witch…what?"

She cleared her throat and recounted how she had found it and all that had happened over the last three months. Jake sat quietly, listening to every word Sara said. "To make a long story short…"

Jake cut her off, "Too late." He smiled at her.

She just glared at him, "That's how Big died, I shot him." She had kept the whole Ian and her thing out of her story. She didn't think that Jake would be able to take that she had had an "intimate" moment with the man that had beat Jake to a pulp. "So…Irons is innocent."

Jake leaned back in his chair and sighed, "I really wanted to bag him for this one too." He looked at Sara's relieved face. "That was a big load that you dropped, huh?"

Sara smiled, "Oh yeah." She looked at her partner; he had been so patient and pleasant while she told him something that any normal person would've placed her in a mental hospital for. "So…you believe me?"

Jake took her hand in his, looking at the now silent bracelet, "How could I not? I mean, look at all the weird stuff that has been going on since I met you. I'm just glad that I know what is really going on now." He released Sara's hand and turned his eyes downward. He had a disturbed look on his face.

Sara stared at the top of Jake's head, "What's up, Rookie?" He looked upset.

He looked up, the expression was still on his face, "Why were you missing for over a day? I was worried. You know, how I should be as a partner and friend." His eyes deceived his true feelings. Sara could tell that he cared for her deeply and it stung that she didn't feel the same way.

"I told you what happened. I went to my apartment with Constance and later to that meeting with the person on the phone. Big jumped me and I was out cold the whole night." She knew that Jake would see through her story. She hadn't told him about the Ian parts. She couldn't tell him how Ian could make her heart leap when she saw him, or how when he was close her body screamed for him to hold her. She still didn't understand it that well herself.

Jake saw the look on her face change when he had questioned her, "Sara, you are not telling me something. Why are you hiding the truth from me? Don't you know that I care for you?" Jake closed his mouth, wishing that he hadn't shown his emotions so openly. "Sometimes, I feel too much for you. More than I should. I know you, Sara. More than you know. I can tell when my partner has had something change her life drastically." Jake fidgeted in his chair, "I can tell when my partn…friend is in love." His eyes were glassy; they were filled with feelings that he hadn't wanted to bring to the surface. He loved her. He had loved her from the first moment that he had seen her. Her personality fit his so perfectly; they could joke and laugh together, yet they could also cry together. He would die for her.

"Love?" Sara tried to chuckle it off and make Jake drop it. "You aren't serious?" Her voice cracked. She knew that he was serious, he could see through her.

Jake just looked down at his hands that were folded on his desk, "Who is he?" He looked up at her, his eyes had an deepness that she had never seen, "The man who saved you? You said that you had help getting away from Big? Who saved you?"

She tried to beat around the bush again and Jake just looked at her with his deep eyes, "Okay. There was a man who saved me, but I'm not in love with him." Sara recounted the story of the man who had taken her to his hidden "nook" in the alley. "So you see, it was just a kind bum. You're getting upset over nothing." She shrugged her shoulders and leaned back, proud of herself for successfully keeping her secret.

Jake still looked upset. He thought in quiet again for awhile, Sara stared at his head. He looked up at her quickly and pointed his finger at her and then placed his hand on his chin, "You…" He began to speak, "Y-You and…and…him!" 

Sara raised her eyebrow, "Me and who?" She looked at him awkwardly. Could he have really figured it out?

"You and…Nottingham!" Jake's voice became louder; some cops stared at the two of them from outside their office.

Sara got up, "What are you looking at?" She kicked the door shut. She turned around and met Jake's blue eyes, "Listen…"

Jake stood up, "Nottingham. I can't believe I didn't notice! You left him out of your story!" Jake grabbed Sara's arms, "You're in love with him aren't you?" Sara stayed calm, Jake's grip tightened on her arms, "He saved you, that's where you have been. With him!" Jake's face tensed with hurt, "How could you, Sara? I thought you were different. I…" Jake stopped abruptly and released his grip. Sara kept eye-contact with him. He looked terribly sad as he walked closer to her, "Sara…" She looked at him blankly, holding in her feelings. Jake placed a hand on her shoulder gently, "I'm so, so sorry." His eyes were watery, "I shouldn't…"

"It's okay…"

"No…no it's not. It wasn't my place. I jumped the gun. I shouldn't have touched you like that."

"Really, Jake it's okay. I should have told you the truth about Nottingham." She placed a hand on his, "Nottingham did help me, like he has done so many times before, but that's all he did. He helped me get back on my feet and then helped me take down Big." Sara felt a stinging pain in her stomach, "Jake, you're my only friend that's still alive. Please believe me."

Jake stepped towards her and looked into her eyes, "Sara…I believe you. I just…I…Sara…" He leaned in a met her lips with his, pulling her close to himself. He kissed her in a way that he had longed to. She met his kiss, yet did not kiss back or fight it. He pulled away and looked at her, "I thought that that would feel different."

Sara looked at him as a small smirk drifted across her face, "What do you mean?"

Jake chuckled, "I've been longing for you, Sara! Wanting you so passionately, and now…" He looked down at his hands and looked back up to her, "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Sara felt her stomach loosen.

"Nothing. I didn't feel anything. No offense, but I felt like I was kissing my sister." He smiled at her and stuck his hands in his pockets.

"No offense taken." Sara spoke with a hint of laughter.

Jake shook his head, "I mean, I thought that I was in love with you, but now I see that it isn't romantic love. I still believe that I love you but more like a friend. I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders."

"Great!" Sara sighed and moved over to her chair again.

Jake looked at the clock, "Wow! We've been in here all day. Shall we get back to what we came in here for in the first place?" The sun was setting in the sky.

Sara smiled and picked up the files on Irons, "Sure, that sounds very good to me, lets book the slime-ball."

Jake sat in his chair and looked at his partner, "Don't you think that I have dropped the Nottingham thing, because I haven't. I still don't think that you should be around him."

Sara looked at him amused, "Who made you my father, Rookie?" Jake just smiled and started looking through his stake of files.

Nottingham watched Sara and Jake, as they sat silently together. He smiled to himself; he knew that Irons wasn't going to get off this time. Sara looked out of the window and saw a familiar outline as it swiftly moved into the shadows. The Witchblade glowed on her wrist and Ian could feel her emotions flowing through his mind as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop. He clutched the shoe-box closely to his body as he neared Sara's apartment. Sara's face filled Ian's every thought as he entered her apartment, like he had done so many times. It was warm and it smelled of vanilla candles. Ian breathed in deeply remembering the kiss that they had shared that morning. He was going to miss her. He walked slowly towards her bed and laid the shoe-box on the white sheets. Pulling a red rose from his jacket he lifted it to his nose and inhaled the lovely aroma. Kissing its soft petals he laid it gently on her pillow with a small note. He turned his back to the bed and headed for the window, "Goodbye, Lady Sara. I love you." He disappeared through the window and into the blackness of the night.


	19. Here's to Goodbyes

Chapter 19: Here's To Goodbyes

Sara took a deep breath as she leaned back in her chair and kicked her feet up onto her desk. It was nearly two in the morning and she was exhausted. Constance had provided them with everything that they needed to send Irons up the river for good. Jake was in the Captain's office at the moment handing in their report. Irons was going to be placed in the state prison until his trial could be arranged. Sara kicked her feet off the desk and grabbed her jacket. She was ready to call it a night, but first there was someone that she needed to do. She walked slowly into the holding area and casually strolled down the long hall to the last cell. Irons was lying on the cot and gazing at the cell wall.

He turned towards her, "Ah, Sara. The always surprising Sara." His eyes glittered and a small smile settled on his lips, "I guess that it was inevitable."

Sara leaned on the wall across from his cell, "What was inevitable?" She watched his eyes trace her body from her eyes, gliding down to her wrist where her bracelet sat motionless.

He cocked his head and brought his eyes back up to her eyes, "That the Witchblade would dispose of me eventually. It always does, you know?" His lips curled, "It always disposes of unwanted or unneeded wielders in its time, even you will be disposed of someday." He turned away from her and closed his eyes, "Now leave me." The tone of his voice dripped with defeat, "Allow me this final courtesy privacy. So that I might be punished with dignity."

Sara pushed off of the wall and moved closer to the cell; she wasn't going to let him off so easily. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Please…" He turned his head towards her and continued, "I promise…" Sara stopped and stared at him. Irons took a deep breath, "I promise that when your time comes, and the Witchblade decides to end your existence, you will understand my misery."

Sara watched the man before her who had once been so god-like crumble under the power that he had held on to so tightly. His dream had crushed him. All the words that she had planned to say to him seemed so childish now. What had happened to Irons was not a game. No matter how many terrible things he had done, he was a man condemned by his own greed. Sara looked on him with pity and buried her hurtful words. When she looked up at him again he had dropped his head and was very quiet as Sara looked upon him. In an awful way he was part of her, a piece of the puzzle that made up her existence. She knew that when he was finally gone, his absence would leave a hole in her life. Suddenly she wasn't feeling so well. Sara swallowed the lump in her throat and slid her hand around one of the cold bars of his cage. "Goodbye…" her voice was a whisper, he didn't move. 

She turned and walked slowly down the hall and out into the cold morning. Her breath came out in puffs making little clouds in the air. As she straddled her bike, the lump in her throat seemed to cut off the air the flowed into her lungs. She knew deep down that Irons was right, one day the Witchblade would take her life away from her and the thought burned her heart. She needed to get home.

When Sara arrived home her face was wet with tears. She wiped them away and threw her helmet on the coach. Her helmet caused Constance's letter to float onto the floor. Sara walked over to the piece of paper and read it's contents. Her lower lip began to quiver. It can't be. Sara grabbed the envelope and looked for the address, GONE. Tears began streaming down her face, Ian. She rushed into the room and dropped down onto her bed. She recoiled her hand in pain, she looked down at the cause of the pain. A red rose lay at her side. The happenings of the way that she had left Ian in her kitchen came back to her as she gingerly picked up the red rose. The note that was attached to the rose fell in her lap. Sara's heart beat faster as she opened it; she saw the scribbled handwriting. Her breaths became short as she read:

Sara,

I must leave. I hope that you understand. There is still so much that I wished that I could have shared with you. You made me human. My last memory of being human is within the box that lies on your bed. I wish for you to keep it. It was precious to me and I hope that you will understand its significance. I will never forget awakening to you and holding you. But I must say goodbye. It is better for both of us. Use the Witchblade wisely. Please, Lady Sara, believe now and forever more that I love you as I have loved no other. Do not forget me. You are the Lady of my heart.

Ian

P.S. We will always have our dreams…

Sara was shaking when she finished the letter. She picked up the box and opened it slowly. In the bottom lay a small child's toy. It was a little sheriff's gun. A tear fell from her face and splashed upon the shiny plastic toy. Sara cradled the gift in her hands as the Witchblade breathed softly. She laid her head down next to the rose, still holding the gun. She breathed in the aroma of the rose and closed her eyes, "I will always love you, Ian…" Exhaustion overtook her and she fell into a deep sleep. A smile spread across her face as the Witchblade breathed and glowed on her wrist. The rose began to bloom.

The End

(or is it?)


End file.
